Second Star to the Right
by SnarkyHunter
Summary: AU: In the aftermath of the Battle of Canary Wharf, the Doctor inspected the basements of Torchwood Tower and stumbled upon a young Welsh archivist. Herein follows the travels of Ianto Jones with the Doctor. Post-Doomsday, Future Janto. More info within.
1. Prologue: Post Doomsday

**This is an AU fic that follows episode format, but not everything will follow the interactions from the show. I have tried to keep everybody as in character as possible, and I've added scenes and and tweaked things here and there, and will let you know ahead of time if something goes majorly different from canon.**

**Speaking of spoilers: All of Doctor Who S3 and probably S4 will be covered, to include the odd novel and animated special. This will be ****_very_**** AU for Torchwood, since I have absconded with their lovely TeaBoy, and I intend to steal Captain Jack and return him to Team TARDIS for the long run, though there will be a couple of Hub visits now and again.**

**Doctor Who and Torchwood do not belong to me. Quotes, shout-outs and references to other fandoms, media or music also do not belong to me.**

**Rated T for the usual Doctor Who stuff: Nightmare fuel, sci-fi violence, mild language/innuendo, random snoggage, and eventual Captain Jack Harkness plus Jack/Ianto (m/m ship, nothing explicit.) And puns. Lots and lots of puns.**

**The concept behind this fic was inspired by BeautyMouse's Meeting Points, where the Ninth Doctor and Rose meet Ianto Jones instead of Adam Mitchell in the episode Dalek. It's a fantastic story and well worth a read.**

**Oh, and this is un-beta'd, so while I am generally quite a stickler for proper writing, there may be typos and flaws that my eyes have simply missed. Also, I have re-written some sections since I first published, so if you've noticed things that look different, that would be why. Feedback is welcomed, so please let me know what you think.**

**Now that I've finished boring you to death with Author's Notes, happy reading! I hope you like it!**

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><p>The Doctor turned his back to the wall, the blank, impenetrable barrier between him and his Rose, and walked away. Alone again. Another battle, another victory against the monsters, another loss.<p>

He trudged to the end of the room, picked his way across the debris that had been Yvonne Hartman's office to stick his head out the gaping hole in the side of the building. UNIT forces were setting up a perimeter around the building, intending to scavenge the broken tower for alien tech, like they were raiding a younger sibling's room for their toys. His eyebrows knitted together in a scowl. He was going to leave now. Fly away in the TARDIS alone, just like he always did. He never stuck around to clean up. He wasn't their parent, it was their own fault if they got their hands on particle guns or Janis Thorns or warp stars and then tried to inflict them on the rest of the galax... The Doctor groaned, kicked a crumbling bit of wall, and headed off down the corridor.

He gave the upper floors a swift but thorough inspection, finding mostly trashed offices and no survivors of any sort to be seen. The laboratories took him longer, and tore his already battered hearts into even smaller pieces, where he found the remnants of Torchwood's prisoners: innocent lifeforms that had fallen to Earth and been locked them up, tortured, interrogated, experimented on, or exploited as tools and weapons. Most of them had fallen to the Daleks, and the few left alive were in such broken conditions that he was forced to end their lives himself to spare them further pain. He descended to the basement archives, uncharacteristically silent, aside from growling to himself as he sifted through the wreckage, dismantling various weapons and carting the pieces to an incinerator. The fire reflected in his eyes as he watched the last of its instruments of destruction shrivel into dust. He sighed wearily and scuffed his trainers against the floor as he prepared to trudge back to the TARDIS.

He reached the floor that held the conversion units: the cybermen might have been gone, but the conversion units were built from materials within the Tower, untouched by the void stuff. The echoed harshly with the clanging of metal and the buzz of wires and circuits. Isolated little spurts of flame were scattered across the room, thick and stuffy with smoke and melted plastic sheeting and the tang of blood and steel. There were bodies piled on the floor, of people who had resisted, or been found 'incompatible.' He grimaced, locating the mainframe that connected the metal frames, some of them still occupied with victims of failed conversions. He buzzed the main wire and watched the units fizzle and fall silent, one by one. And at the end of the row, he heard an all too human yell.

"No! No, Lisa, stay with me!" The Doctor ran down the rows until he found the source: a disheveled young man, drenched in sweat, sleeves rolled up, suit jacket long discarded, kneeling by one of the units. Human, beyond all doubts; lack of earpieces aside, no converted human could have such an expression of anguish. The metal frame held a victim: a young woman, partly flesh and partly webs of steel. The boy gazed up miserably at the Doctor as he dashed up to them.

"What're you doing?" the Time Lord asked warily.

"She's still alive, still human," the boy choked, "they didn't get her, I was trying to save her... but the power's gone, she can't breathe on her own without it." He reached up and cupped a hand around the woman's cheek, who was gasping through the cybernetic respiratory system. "Please stay with me, it's going to be alright." He turned back to the Doctor. "Can you help me?"

Humans, honestly! There was his day in a nutshell; Yvonne Hartman's little army, that persecuted and exploited life from other worlds, that blackmailed him with Rose's life, that would have torn apart his precious ship, that unleashed hordes of Daleks and cybermen on the planet, and the moment it backfired onto them they tried to make him fix it. It was their fault the cybermen came through the breach in the first place, and -_ oh, for Rassilon's sake,_ they were humans. These two couldn't be older than twenty-five. They were practically kids. Caught in a cosmic crossfire, completely out of their depth, scared and hurt and clinging desperately to each other and a last few shreds of hope. They'd barely lived.

The Doctor sighed. "Alright, let's take a look." He pulsed frantically at sections of the conversion unit. "Can't fire it up all the way, but I should be able to get her breathing. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon... there we go!" He sparked a pair of wires together. "Residual power boost. 'S not going to hold for long," he said grimly as the woman gave a ragged inhale. The conversion knives above the unit began to whine and rotate. "Oh, no you _don't!_" he growled, sonicking them until they jammed, fizzled away and died. A shower of acrid smoke flared up nearby and the boy doubled over, coughing, eyes streaming. "You okay?" the Doctor asked automatically, before running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. "Sorry, stupid question. What's your name?"

"I'm... Jones," he faltered. "Ianto Jones, Archives." The Doctor looked him over properly. Welsh, by his name and accent; blue-eyed, baby-faced, with cuts and burns on his face and hands. He nodded and dropped his gaze to the woman trapped in steel. She had dark skin and deep, dark eyes and must have been a very striking woman before she had been soldered into a metal cage.

"And you, what's your name?" he asked gently. She gave a cracked whisper.

"Lisa. Lisa Hallett."

"Lisa, okay Lisa, that's a good sign, you remember your identity, he's right, it hasn't processed you completely. Lisa, can you feel anything?"

"Pain. It's burning." She squeezed her eyes shut, a tear sliding down her face. "Where's Ianto?" He moved to her other side, pressing a hand to her cheek.

"'M right here, Lisa, it's going to be okay... what're you doing?" The Doctor scanned the frame with the screwdriver, checking the readings, pulling away sections of wiring, severing some, fusing others together.

"This is different, this is new," he said darkly. "Usually they remove the brain and transplant it into a metal body, but they're upgrading _everything_ here, I've never seen this before."

"They needed more soldiers," Ianto said hoarsely. "When those... Daleks showed up, the cybermen just started grabbing people left and right, dragging them off."

The Doctor nodded. "Easier to build the metal around a stable host than to remove the brain and plant it into a new body, probably," he mulled aloud.

"Lisa was halfway through the process when -" he gestured ineffectually at the burnt out wirings before slipping his hand into hers. "Do you know anything about cyber technology? Can you fix her?"

The Doctor looked at them seriously. "I know enough to know that it's nearly impossible to make a cyberman human again. But this is a different process. It's not something that's ever been done before, so there's a tiny chance that it's different enough. No guarantees. No promises. But I can try." He flicked the screwdriver up and examined the readings, muttering to himself, "'Bout 42% augmentation, 58% awaiting completion," he hissed between his teeth, "not ideal, how'd you escape, anyway?" he asked distractedly. There was no accusation in his voice, but Ianto hung his head.

"Air vents," he mumbled. "The cybermen blocked off the entire floor and started dragging people off, but I got about four people to follow me through a duct by the back wall. Hansen, Silvard, Luka and Cravis. I don't know where they are now, Hansen tried to get us to the secure archives to find weapons, but I... fell behind. I thought I could get up here to find Lisa."

Admiration flickered on the Doctor's face before he fixed Lisa with a rueful, reassuring grin. "He must really like you, huh?" She returned it with a weak smile of her own before drawing another ragged breath.

"I was going to propose..." Ianto whispered. "I'd been carrying the ring with me for weeks trying to work up the nerve."

Her eyes brightened for a moment, his words seeming to stave away the pain. "I'd have said yes."

_Funny how humans could look so happy and so sad at the same time... _The Doctor stood upright, checking and double-checking the readings. "Ok. Theoretically speaking, in order to save her, we would have to move her to a life support system that is compatible to her condition without the ability to convert her any further. Then she would need extensive and complicated surgery to remove the metal that's grafted to her limbs and torso."

"So she can be fixed?" Ianto's eyes flickered with hope.

The Doctor sighed. "This conversion unit _is_ a life-support system, meant to keep her stable only while the conversion took place, and right now it's the only thing that could keep her alive. Now, given a few months and some supplies from a really shady tech salvage expert from Meredain IV in the 37th century, one might craft something from scratch. Well, I could. It would take a human probably four years. And... this unit has lost its primary function to convert a human host. I've taken out the knives and disabled the conversion commands and the weapon functions; that wrist-gun thing on her right arm. It can't turn Lisa into one of them, but it won't keep her alive. The machine is shutting itself down, and the residual power might hold it for... well, we have about four minutes. I'm sorry, we just don't have time." He ran a hand through his hair and scuffed his foot against the floor in frustration. "There's never enough time."

Ianto flinched and closed his eyes. The Doctor went on, "The other thing is... an operation might be able to fix her body, and if that were all she might have had a chance. But there's already been extensive augmentation in the brain. That's what the machine went for first. It didn't inhibit her emotions, but the technology is in there and it'll slowly take over. By the time the percentages are reversed, anything could trigger a complete takeover. The brain is incredibly complex and delicate... I don't think anybody understands it well enough to return it to its natural state after it's been taken over by something this parasitic."

Misery flitted across Lisa's face before it was replaced with a stoic resignation, her breathing becoming shallower. "So there's nothing you or anybody can do."

"No. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But there isn't."

"Okay. Promise me... you'll get Ianto out alive. Make sure he's okay."

Ianto's head shot up. "What? No, no, I'm not leaving you, I can't just..." Lisa looked at him, another tear slipping away unheeded and a fragment of a smile beneath her grimace of pain.

"My stubborn Welshman. I love you. But you're going to have to let me go. Find someone. Be happy. Do that for me?"

Ianto's face crumpled. "I don't want to. I love you, I don't want you to go."

"You're very brave, Lisa," the Doctor said gently. "Very brave, and very human, and I am really very sorry. I'll look after him. I promise."

Lisa gave him a weak smile. "Thank you." She coughed, pulling in a thready gasp of air. "Ianto..." she murmured. "Goodbye, love. Have a good life for me." Ianto choked on a sob, forcing it into the back of his throat and hastily swiping tears out of his eyes.

"Ianto, look at me," the Doctor ordered. Ianto met his eyes tentatively; tired, broken, ancient eyes raging with loss. "I know. Honestly, I know. But there's nothing you can do for her right now except hold her hand and make sure she doesn't have to die alone." Ianto nodded once, scraping tears away from his face with his shoulder. The Doctor took a step back to give them a moment. Ianto leaned over the unit to give her a lingering kiss and a whispered goodbye. He clung to Lisa's hand as she gave a last, shuddering sigh and became very still. He stared for one second, then two, then three, and then his face crumpled. He slumped to the floor, face buried in his arms, frame shaking with wrenching sobs.

The Doctor reached up and closed Lisa's eyes. He pulled Ianto upright, wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided the defeated Welshman out of the basement and through the devastated corridors, back to the TARDIS. From the core of the ship came a wistful, soothing melody, and it was only once he saw the blue box that Ianto looked at him properly.

"Hold on. You're the Doctor?" he mumbled.

"Yep."

"Torchwood's enemy number one."

"Yep."

"But you're helping me."

"Yep. Problem?"

Ianto shrugged desolately and followed him into the TARDIS. He offered no comment regarding its dimensional transcendentalism. The Doctor didn't expect one anyway.

* * *

><p>Ianto woke, completely disoriented. He was curled up on an unfamiliar bed, still in his work clothes, which were stained and smelled like smoke. His tie, shoes and belt lay abandoned on the floor, mangled and singed and crumpled, and his hands were tangled in a slightly grimy, tear-stained blanket. He dug through his empty pockets, glanced blearily about the strange room as dim memories flooded back: smoke, cybermen, Lisa, the Doctor, the great big room inside the little blue box, Lisa converted, Lisa gone. He sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees, burying his head against a wave of emptiness that crashed through him. He registered a presence shifting gently, vibrating at a soft hum inside his mind - no, beside, not inside. He threw up his psychic barriers as a reflex, only to find them practically shattered from stress and panic. The walls - was it the walls? Something within the ship gave a wheeze; chiding, amused, and reassuring all in the same thought. He cautiously relaxed what remained of his barriers, and was rewarded with the lulling thrum.<p>

"It's okay, she likes you." Ianto jumped. The Doctor, _the Doctor,_ was slouching in the doorway, smiling gently, like an owner of an intimidating yet gentle big dog. "The TARDIS is sentient. Bit telepathic, bit moody sometimes, too." The ship creaked indignantly and he patted the wall. "Sorry, dear." Ianto squeezed his eyes shut, gave his head a tiny shake, trying to clear the fuzz from his thoughts.

Because really, what was he supposed to make of the Doctor? For years he'd been fed stories of how the Time Lord was the Enemy, a threat to earth, banished from the planet by Queen Victoria. And he'd honestly believed that Torchwood existed to prevent alien threats; many of his friends worked there because they wanted to protect people. And then the Doctor had to go and save the human race from itself. Had to make millions upon millions of cybermen and Daleks disappear. Had to search for survivors, had to try and save Lisa, had to drag him out of there and onto his ship. 'Enemy No. 1' had suddenly been replaced by 'mad, skinny alien in a suit and trainers' who traveled with plucky young women and their mothers and talked to his spaceship. He gave a little choke that might have been a sob or a giggle; abducted by aliens. What next?

The Doctor scuffed his foot against the threshold. His new passenger was curled into a protective ball, trying to muster a blank expression with as much effect as his psychic barriers, mind and face writhing with_ fear guilt loss anxiety_ _confusion no stop help go away don't leave me_. Not for the last time, he wished Rose was there. She would know what to say.

Because really, what was he supposed to make of Ianto Jones? Rose was gone and he was here and he would have been prepared to swear that no member of Torchwood would ever set foot on his TARDIS after everything they did. And then one of their minions had to go and be so... human. Had to climb through the ventilation shafts of the building to reach the woman he loved, had to beg him to save her, had to hold her hand and stay with her until the bitter end. 'Member of Torchwood' had been quite suddenly replaced by 'traumatized, heartbroken Welsh kid' who'd just lost his love, friends and future in the space of a few hours.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

Ianto frowned, blinked, puzzled over the question for a moment. He worked for Torchwood. He was on their Enemy's spaceship. Torchwood was gone. He was being offered tea. And it felt like an awkward attempt at sympathy as opposed to a trap.

"You have tea... on your spaceship?"

"Every good spaceship ought to!" The Doctor plastered on a grin. "Lovely stuff. Tannins and antioxidants and all that. Take your time, kitchen's down the hall, three doors on the left, if you fancy a cuppa in a bit. And like I said, the TARDIS is sentient and a bit telepathic, she won't let you get lost. Unless she's cranky. Just thought I'd come check up on you, I've finished sorting out the rest of the stuff in the basements, and UNIT's moving in so we'll need to be skipping off now. I'll be in the console room if you're looking for me, big room in the middle, can't miss it."

Ianto stared at him, even more thrown off by his bright chattering. "Erm... okay."

"Oh, and..." he pulled a tube of blue-green gel from his pocket and tossed it neatly. "Got this from the med-bay. Comes from a kind of fern on Arbus XXVI-B. Put it on your hands and face once you've cleaned up a bit. It'll protect the cuts, keep them from getting infected." Ianto stared at it, then back at him. "It won't sting, I promise." He was about to turn on his heel and swish out the door when Ianto shook himself out of his fog.

"Doctor?"

"Yep?"

Ianto looked at the floor, looked at him, then back at the floor. "Thank you." The artificially carefree grin slid off the Doctor's face. He nodded once, eyes suspiciously bright, and turned away.

The TARDIS lulled Ianto into a few more hours of uneasy sleep, before he managed to haul himself upright to get his bearings. True to the Doctor's word, the sentient ship would nudge him almost on a subconscious level in the right directions to help him find the kitchen, one of the many bathrooms, and the wardrobe. He had been stunned by the sheer size of the TARDIS wardrobe, and wandered through multiple sections before getting pointed to a row of suits like the ones he was used to wearing. Clean, rested, presentable, and slightly bolstered by layers of monochromatic wool armor, he straightened his tie and headed for the console room to face... whatever it was the Doctor was going to do about him. He loitered in the hallway as he heard the Doctor talking quietly to - he couldn't exactly tell, a projection of some sort, but this was clearly a private moment.

"And I suppose... since this is my last chance to say it..." the Time Lord hesitated. "Rose Tyler..." but the projection he was speaking to faded away. Just for a moment, Ianto caught a glimpse of his face: tear-streaked and anguished, still forming the unspoken words, before fading into regret and resignation. A pang of understanding coursed through Ianto; the blonde girl, his companion. The Doctor had lost someone too. He covered his face with his hands, wiping away tears, before leaning over to the console and pressing a few buttons. Ianto took a cautious step into the console room, saw the Doctor's head shoot up like a prairie dog as -

There was another person in the console room. In a wedding dress. Who had, quite literally, appeared out of thin air in a shimmer of golden light.

"What?" the Doctor yelped.

The bride spun around and made a strangled squeak in reply.

"What?" he repeated. She recovered coherent sentences first.

"Who are you?"

"But..."

"Where am I?"

"What?"

_"_What the_ hell_ is this place_?!"_

_"_WHAT!_"_

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><p><strong><em>TBC!<em>**


	2. The Runaway Bride: Pt 1

**So I rewrote this. It won't have a huge impact on the plot overall, now that I've got the hang of writing the episodes without keeping every line.**

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><p>Ianto stood in the entrance to the corridor, tucked behind a section of wall, and watched, agape, as the irate bride and the bewildered alien proceeded to have a vitriolic bickering match. Neither one spared him a glance, both distracted with their conundrum.<p>

"I was halfway up the aisle..." the woman wailed. "I was just seconds away when you... drugged me or something."

"I haven't done anything!" the Doctor insisted defensively. He ducked around the console pulling controls as she hounded him.

"We're 'aving the police on you! Me and my husband... soon as he is my husband, we're gonna sue the living backside off you!"

He shot her another peeved glance, spotted Ianto lurking in the corner and mouthed, '_help!'_ pressing buttons at random. Ianto's eyes widened as the woman made a dash for the TARDIS doors.

"No! No, don't, wait a minute!" They died off and he followed to stand next to her as she stared into space; literally, at a swirling, colorful miasma of a dying sun. Even from a distance, Ianto was mesmerized by the sight.

"You're in space," the Doctor sighed. "Outer space. This is my... space ship. It's called the TARDIS."

"How am I breathing?"

"The TARDIS is protecting us."

"Who are ya?" she probed warily.

"I'm the Doctor. That's Ianto, over there." She whipped around as Ianto's 'bunny rabbit in the headlights' look became a grimace and a half-hearted wave.

"Did you kidnap him, too?"

"No, no, no! He was invited." The Doctor shrugged and stage-whispered, "I think he's shy. 'S your name, then?"

"Donna."

He looked her over. "Human?"

"Yeah. That optional?"

"Is for me," he replied casually. Their backs were to him, but Ianto could almost see the exasperated sarcasm that she used to cover her disbelief.

"You're an alien."

"Yeah."

"Is he an alien?"

"Nope. I don't think. Haven't asked him properly, actually. Oi, Ianto? You human?"

"Last time I checked," Ianto muttered, somewhat embarrassed.

Donna remained frozen for a long moment, but seemed to recover quickly. "It's freezing with these doors open."

The Doctor slammed the doors closed and darted back to the console like a bothered wasp. "I don't understand it, and I understand everything. This - this can't happen! There is no way a human being can lock itself onto the TARDIS and transport itself inside." He grabbed an optic device hanging from a tool-bag below the console and began studying her with it, right up in her personal space, prattling to himself in scientific terms at a ridiculous speed. She didn't take kindly to this examination, and promptly slapped him. "What was _that_ for?" he yelped.

"GET ME TO THE CHURCH!"

"Right! _FINE!_ I don't want you here anyway!"

Appalled at the both of them, Ianto decided to intervene. "Doctor!"

"What?!"

"Right, that's enough." Ianto strode forward towards the console as the Doctor drew himself up, thrown by the abrupt change in attitude. "Look, could you just - keep _still?_ Thank you. Now - Donna, yes?"

"Yeah." She narrowed her eyes.

Ianto floundered, gesturing at the padded foam chair. "Er... have a seat? And if you'd tell us which church, and where?"

She didn't sit, but spoke a little more calmly. "St. Mary's, Hayden Road. Chiswick. London. England. Earth," she added scathingly. "The Solar System."

"That should do, thank you. Doctor, can you get us there?"

"Hmm? Yes. Right, yes! Chiswick!"

Ianto pinched the bridge of his nose as the Doctor skittered about pressing buttons and pulling levers. "Now, could you tell us exactly what happened?"

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><p>Unable to draw any conclusions from Donna's description of a 'humming, glowy, dizzy sort of feeling', Ianto's attempt to coordinate what they would say to her family and the wedding guests about the incident devolved spectacularly. Donna had laid eyes on Rose's shirt that had been folded over the rails, and thrown further accusations of abduction. Just when he'd smoothed things over, she commented, "Well, at least one of you's got some manners -"<p>

To which the Doctor piped up, "Are you saying I'm rude? Actually, I am a bit rude. You got to be ginger, I always wanted to be ginger, but no, I got to be rude. Rude and not ginger." She gaped at him, and Ianto was grateful when they ground to a landing and spilled out of the box onto a city alley.

"I said _'Saint Mary's'_. What sort of Martian are you? Where's this?"

"Something's wrong with her..." the Doctor mumbled, stroking the side of the TARDIS. "It's like she's... recalibrating!" He darted back inside.

Ianto frowned, trying to keep up with his movements. "Perhaps we're close by, shall we -"

_"Donna!" _the Doctor called from the console._ "You gotta think, anything you might have done that caused this?"_ Donna ignored both of them, staring at the box. She poked her head around the side, checking the panels while the Doctor continued to babble.

When she reappeared on the other side, Ianto gave a tiny shrug. "I'm fairly sure the ship is supposed to be like that."

"_-you getting married to? You sure he's human?"_

Donna only gave him a distressed look. "Leave me alone, I just want to get married." She turned and began to walk away.

"I - wh... Doctor!" Ianto called back, and a pinstriped blur dashed to catch up. "Donna, wait. At least let us make sure you get back safely."

She sighed, but let them fall into pace. "Ugh, ten past three, I'm gonna miss it."

"You can phone them? Tell them where you are," the Doctor suggested.

"How do I do that?"

"Haven't you got a mobile?"

Automatically, Ianto reached into his suit jacket. He stopped walking, suddenly confounded as his hand disappeared far deeper than a pocket ought to go, even with the lining torn out.

Meanwhile, Donna rounded on the Doctor. "I'm in my wedding dress," she hissed. "It doesn't have pockets. Who has pockets? Have you ever seen a bride with pockets?" The Doctor scratched the back of his head sheepishly as she went on, "When I went to my fitting at Chez Alison, one thing I forgot to say was 'give me _pockets!'_"

The Doctor nodded, opened his mouth -

"Ahem." They turned back to Ianto, eyeing them wearily. "Doctor. You have a_ phone booth._ Are you telling me there is no phone in your phone booth?"

"Oh!" The Doctor practically gave a little skip. "Yes! I've got a phone!"

"Oh, no, I'm not going back to that box, it's too... weird!"

He slumped, pouted. "It's... bigger on the inside, that's all."

"Oh, that's all? You and your... Martian space box -"

"I'm no - I'm not -" the Doctor sputtered. "I'm not from Mars!"

"That's enough," Ianto said firmly. "One, we need to figure out our location. Two, we need to find a public telephone so that Donna can call her family. Three, we need to get a cab and get to St. Mary's. And it would be very helpful if the both of you would _kindly cooperate!_"

The city was bright, cold, suddenly roaring with life as the two fell silent. The Doctor narrowed his eyes, and Ianto simply didn't bother to hide how tired and unimpressed he was. The last thing he wanted was to get into a pissing contest over who was in charge, not with the man who had just saved his life. But if he continued to behave like a high-strung, distracted greyhound, Ianto would just have to deal with their situation his way. And if the Doctor wanted to be rid of his tag-along Torchwood passenger when all was said and done, so be it.

"Now, have either of you any money for cab fare?"

"Pockets!"

* * *

><p>"-Took my eyes off you for <em>five minutes!"<em> Ianto protested when the Doctor grabbed his hand and yanked him through a flurry of paper notes and the delighted crowd snatching away at the fluttering money. They raced back to the TARDIS and the Doctor launched himself at the console, flicking levers and flipping switches and whacking an instrument with a mallet. Wires sparked and flashed and went _ding! _as the entire craft shifted and began to grind.

Ianto dithered as the ship rocked violently, but managed to get out, "What's happening? Do you need help?"

The Doctor faltered for a moment, then thwacked the console again. "Behave!" he admonished it before turning back to Ianto. "We're chasing a robot Santa in a cab in heavy traffic, now when I say go, pull that lever and hold it steady, that one there, and give us a moment cause I need to concentrate, got that?"

"Got it."

The Doctor flung the TARDIS doors open. "Donna! Open the door_! OPEN THE DOOR!" _A moment later he pulled the screwdriver and aimed it at the taxi. Ianto caught a despairingly sarcastic wail of "Santa's a _robot._"

"You've got to _jump!"_

_"_I'm not_ bleeding flip-jumping, _I'm supposed to be_ getting married!" s_he shrieked. Her voice faded out as the cab pulled away.

"GO! Pull the lever!" the Doctor called back to him. He gave it a smooth tug and the box sped up. He yelped suddenly as it jarred and scraped. "Arrgh, sorry, car!" The Doctor adjusted his hold on the doorway and kept calling Donna. "Donna, listen to me, you've got to jump!"

"I'm not jumping on a motorway!"

"Donna, whatever that thing is, it needs you, and whatever it needs you for, it's _not good!_ Come on, jump!"

"I'm in my _wedding dress!"_

His voice rose an octave in pitch as he yelled desperately, "Yes! You look lovely! Now COME ON!" Her door swung open and she gazed, panicked, at the white stripes of the motorway whizzing past her like lightening.

"I can't do it!"

"Trust me."

"Is that what you said to her?" Donna wailed back. "Your friend, the one you lost? Did she trust you?"

"Yes, she did. And she's not dead, she is so alive, now come on." With a cry, the bride launched herself into the TARDIS, knocking the Doctor over and landing on him. He kicked the doors closed and pulled Donna upright as the blue box careened off into the sky.

* * *

><p>They stumbled out of the TARDIS a few minutes later, coughing from the smoke as the Doctor extinguished the inside.<p>

"Funny thing, for a spaceship, she doesn't do much... flying. We'd better give her a couple of hours. Did we miss it?" the Doctor asked, coming to stand next to them as they gazed across the dreary grey skyline from the roof of the building, stories high.

"Yeah," Donna sighed.

"Well... you can book another date?"

"'Course we can."

"Still got the honeymoon," he continued, trying to get her to see the bright side of things.

"Just a holiday, now."

"Yeah... yeah. Sorry."

"S'not your fault."

He raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "Oh? That's a change."

"Wish you had a time machine. Then we could go back and get it right."

"Yeah..." Ianto glanced sidelong at the Doctor, but didn't say anything. He knew what he was doing. Probably. "But, even if I did, I couldn't go back on someone's personal timeline. Apparently."

She looked at him funny, but didn't engage, sitting on the edge of the building. The Doctor sat beside her, draping his suit jacket around her shoulders.

"God, you're skinny. This wouldn't fit a rat."

He huffed. "Oh, and you better put this on." He pulled a gold ring from out of his pocket, and Ianto had to stare away again, across the skyline, willing himself to keep his features impassive.

"D'ya have to rub it in?" Donna protested.

"Those creatures can trace you, this is a bio-damper. Should keep you hidden." He slid it on her finger and declared, "With this ring, I thee bio-damp," popping the p on the end.

"For better or for worse. So come on, then, robot-Santas. What are they for?"

"Budget cuts. They fired the elves and built them as a cheap workforce," Ianto remarked, sitting beside them, drawing his thoughts back to the situation at hand. Anything to divert his mind away, to let him deal with it later. "Though I'm sure the Elvish Union will have a fit. Ten to one they'll be gone by next holidays."

"With the day I'm having, I'd almost believe that," Donna retorted.

The Doctor grinned sidelong and explained, "They're your basic robo-scavenger. The Father Christmas stuff is just a disguise. They're trying to blend in. I met them last Christmas."

"Why, what happened then?"

"Great big spaceship?" he prompted. "Hovering over London? You didn't notice?"

"Had a bit of a hangover," she admitted.

"Lucky for you. I'm A-positive." Ianto shivered and scooted a few inches away from the edge of the building.

"It was a bluff all along, you know," the Doctor said cheerfully.

"I read the files."

"Did they leave in the bit about the big, threatening button? And the swordfight? And the satsuma?" Donna looked between them incredulously.

"They must have left out the bit about the satsuma," Ianto said dryly.

"A-positive? Files? Satsuma? What _where_ you doing that Christmas?"

"Oh, I spent it over there, at the Powell Estate, with this... family, my friend, she had this family, well, they were..." he trailed off, still staring across. Ianto felt like he'd been struck. Had anybody told Lisa's parents? Or had she simply disappeared, were they still waiting, not knowing she could never come home?

"Your friend..." Donna asked softly. "Who was she?"

"The question is, what do robot scavenger mercenaries want with you?" the Doctor said abruptly. "And how did you get inside the TARDIS, I dunno... what's your job?" He yanked the screwdriver from the coat pocket and started buzzing it as she eyed it distastefully.

"I'm a secretary."

"It's weird. You're not special, you're not powerful, you're not connected, you're not clever..."

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

"You're being rude. Again."

"I'll say," Donna bristled. "This friend of yours, before she left, did she punch you in the face? Stop _bleeping_ me!" She swatted his hand away and they both looked in opposite directions with mirroring expressions of vexation until the Doctor resumed his line of questioning.

"What kind of secretary?"

"I'm at H.C. Clements." She smiled again. "It's where I met Lance. I was temping. It was all a bit posh, really, I'd spent the last two years at a double glazing firm. Well, I thought 'I'm never gonna fit in here,' and then he made me a cup of coffee! That just doesn't happen! I mean, no one makes the secretary a cup of coffee. And Lance - he's the head of HR! He's not gonna bother with me. But he was _nice_, he was _funny. _And it turns out, he thought everyone else was really snotty too! So that's how it started, me and him- one cup of coffee." An involuntary choke found its way out of Ianto's throat. The Doctor and Donna both swiveled their heads to look at him concernedly. "You alright?" Donna asked.

He pulled the pieces of his mask together. "Fine. I'm fine."

The Doctor gave him a sharp look, but moved on. "How long ago was this?"

Donna gave him another concerned look before answering, "Six months."

"That's a bit quick to be getting married," the Doctor remarked.

She hesitated. "Well... he insisted." The corner of Ianto's mouth twitched with dull amusement. She was fibbing. "And he nagged, and he nagged me... and he just... wore me down. And finally I just gave in."

"What does H.C Clement's do?"

"Oh security, entry codes, I.D cards... Stuff like that. If you ask me, it's really just a posh name for lock smiths."

"Keys..." the Doctor muttered to himself, thinking.

"Anyway, enough of my CV. Come on, it's time to face the consequences. Oh, this is gonna be so shaming. You can do the explaining, Martian-boy."

He turned to face her. "Yeah... I'm not from Mars."

She returned the comment with an uppity smirk as he pulled her to her feet, and then she sighed again. "Oh, I had this great big reception all planned. Everyone's gonna be heartbroken."


	3. The Runaway Bride: Pt 2

They strode into the reception hall, and Ianto was tempted to flee. It was dark, with colorful lights flashing, and loud with cheesy Christmas music, and everybody was dancing. It was overwhelmingly crowded and disorienting. He skulked a bit behind the Doctor, as Donna stopped dead and folded her arms. The music cut off abruptly and everybody turned to stare at her.

"You had the reception without me," she said flatly.

"Donna? What happened to ya?" asked a black man in a handsome waistcoat. Ianto supposed this was Lance.

Donna raised her voice. "You had the reception _without me._" A pained expression crossed the groom's face.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor," the Time Lord said cheerily from behind Donna, trying to lighten the mood.

"They had the reception without me," she repeated to him.

"Yes, I gathered," he said indulgently.

"Well, it was all paid for, why not?" said a snobby-looking blonde girl who'd been dancing with the groom.

"Thank you, _Nerys,"_ Donna hissed venomously, and her earlier remarks about Nerys fell into place.

"Well, what were we supposed to do?" An imperious, silver-haired woman sallied forward. Donna's mother, by the looks of it. "I got your silly little message in the end. 'I'm on Earth?' Very funny. But what the hell happened?" The entire crowd pressed in and started interrogating her, pushing her for answers. Ianto was about to duck into the hall, when Donna started to sob hysterically. The crowd 'aww'd' and then applauded as Lance stepped forward and gave her a hug. She continued to cry into his shoulder before turning her head towards the Doctor, shooting him a sly wink. Well, he had to hand it to her. She was a drama queen, but she knew how to play a crowd.

The party continued as the DJ started an upbeat song. Donna and Lance were out on the dance floor and the Doctor slouched against the bar, smirking at the outlandish dancing. Ianto was tempted to get a drink but figured he'd probably need to keep a clear head for the time being. Sure enough, a few pieces of the puzzle clicked together in his mind, and he remembered something. He sidled up to the slouching Time Lord.

"Doctor. Sir? Doctor?" In what felt like a childish gesture, he tugged the Doctor's sleeve.

"Oh! Sorry. Miles away. It's a far cry from Glenn Miller." He frowned. "Don't call me sir."

"Sorry," Ianto mumbled. "I know what H.C. Clemen-"

"Gonna have to speak up a bit, it's awfully loud in here," the Doctor said gently.

"H.C. Clements."

"What about it?"

"It's - it was owned by Torchwood. It had been a private security company, and then they bought it out. Clements outfitted and programmed all of the alarms and surveillance in the Tower." The Doctor glanced at him sharply, and nodded, before staring out again over the crowd of people. A woman with long blonde hair was spun and dipped by her partner, and the Doctor sniffed and looked away at the same moment that Ianto tore his gaze away from a dark-skinned girl with short hair and sparkling eyes.

"What was the deal with the coffee?"

Ianto smiled weakly. "What d'you think?"

"Tell me?"

"We'd known each other for a few months. Started leaving one on her desk every day while I was trying to pluck up the nerve to ask her out. Only she found me out when she went and asked the people who monitored video surveillance."

The Doctor nodded. "I blew up her job." Ianto did a double-take. "Rose's job, she worked at Hendricks. You remember those living shop window dummies about two years ago? I was skulking about after hours, they cornered her, we ran, I blew the place up." Suddenly, the Doctor's face cleared. "Surveillance camera! Oh, brilliant! Come on!" He donned a pair of glasses and accosted a young man with a video camera who was recording the reception. Ianto followed behind, approaching in time to hear, "- all had a look. They said 'sell it to You've Been Framed.' I said, 'More like the news.'"

"Can't be, play it again? Ianto, come have a look."

"Clever, mind," the cameraman continued. "Good trick, I'll give her that. I was clapping."

"But that's not right..." the Doctor leaned in as it covered the moment where Donna disappeared in a shimmer of gold dust.

"That's how it looked like when she appeared, Doctor," Ianto offered.

"It can't be... Huon particles?"

"What are Huon particles?"

"That's impossible, that's ancient, huon particles don't exist anymore, not for billions of years, so old that..." he trailed off and gazed back to Donna.

"Doctor?" Ianto prompted warily.

"It _can't be hidden by a bio-damper!_" He was off like a shot, through a corridor. Ianto shot the cameraman a quick nod of thanks before taking a deep breath and ducking his way between the crowd to warn Donna. By the time he reached her, the Doctor had already been to a window and back, practically launching himself in the midst yelling "Donna! Donna, they found you!"

"But you said I was safe!"

"The bio-damper doesn't work! We've got to get everyone out!"

"My god, it's all my family!" Donna gasped.

"Back door?" Ianto suggested. They ran for the white terraced doors to see two more pilot-fish stalking up the path.

"Maybe not." There were more at the window.

"We're trapped," Donna whispered.

"What's it holding? Looks like a radio controller."

"Christmas trees," the Doctor hissed, spinning around at the offending plant.

"What about 'em?"

"They kill! _Get away from the trees!_"

Donna and Ianto started shepherding the children away from the trees, yelling the same.

"Oh, for god's sake, the man's an idiot," Donna's mother protested. "What harm's a Christmas tree gonna... oh." The red baubles started levitating in a circle, and all the guests were too distracted by the show to let the three herd them away. This promptly dissolved into chaos as the baubles whizzed about the room and discharged small explosives. Donna had dived behind a table and pulled Lance with her. Amidst the darkness and the flashing lights and the acrid smoke, Ianto quite nearly lost his nerve, tailing close to the Doctor like a shadow as they ended up behind the DJ booth. Ianto poked his head up and dropped down again. The robot-Santas were facing them like a firing squad.

"Doctor, they're all here. What do we do? What are their weaknesses?"

"Arrgh, usually I can get one with the screwdriver, jam the radio signals. All of them, that's a nasty business, come on, think, _think!"_he trailed off to himself. Ianto jumped to his feet and started flipping switches on the sound system.

"Oh, that's brilliant!" The Doctor leaped up as well. "OI! SANTA! Word of advice! If you're attacking a man with a sonic screwdriver," he flipped a microphone in the air and spoke into it, "_don't let 'im near the sound system!_" He jammed the screwdriver into a power socket and filled the speakers with a high-pitched pulsing. Cogs and sparks flew from the pilot-fish: Ianto saw the cold metal beneath the Santa masks. He flinched and ducked back to the ground, covering his ears. Robots, too much, too soon. The Doctor ended his attack. The quiet that followed came as a relief. Ianto collected himself and the Doctor gave him a grin and a hand up. Ianto returned it with a raised eyebrow.

"Overkill, Doctor."

"What?"

"The little speech, the microphone..."

"Was it, a bit? Oh! _Radio signal!_" He jumped the booth and dashed for the broken robots. Ianto followed Donna and helped her check on the guests. He wasn't going anywhere near the broken pilot-fish.

"But what is it? What were they?" Lance demanded.

"Just stop wittering and help them."

"Look at that!" the Doctor called as Donna made her way over. "Remote control for the decorations, but there's a second remote control for the robots. They're not scavengers anymore. I think someone's taken possession," he finished darkly.

"Never mind all that, you're a doctor. People have been hurt," Donna said sincerely. He ignored her.

"Nah, they wanted you alive, look." He tossed her a shattered bauble. "They're not active now."

'All the same, you could help."

"Got to think of the bigger picture." He held the metal helm of the robot to his ear. "There's still a signal!" Most of the guests were stumbling out of the room, largely unharmed. Ianto took the shout as his cue to chase the Doctor as he dashed off yet again.

Donna caught up with them in the cold, bright courtyard. Ianto sat at the edge of the fountain, taking respite and trying not to look as the Doctor scanned the robot's head with the sonic.

"There's someone behind this, directing the roboforms."

"But why me, what've I done?"

"If we find the controller, we'll find that out. Ohh... it's up there." Ianto stood and drew next to them. "It's something in the sky." The Doctor continued pulsing skyward as Donna sat. Ianto thought it over.

"So, basically, there is an intelligent _something_ up there that is broadcasting a radio signal, and it's controlling the robots, which are tracking Ms. Noble. And they tracked her because she's been exposed to those huon particles, which somehow caused her to... for lack of a better word, teleport into your TARDIS. So, once we find the source of the control, we should find out why it happened. Correct?" The Doctor shot him an approving grin.

"Good. You're keeping up. Aww, no, no, _no!_ I've lost the signal! Donna!" They ran back to Donna, who had been joined by Lance.

"We've got to get to your office, at H.C. Clements. It think that's where it all started. Lance! Is it Lance? Can you give me a lift?"

"Wait, have you had anything to drink?" Donna asked.

"A bit, yeah," Lance admitted.

"Right, then, I'm driving. We'll take my car."

* * *

><p>"Not exactly a chase, is it?" the Doctor muttered, his long, lean frame practically folded upon itself, yet the top of his head was still wedged firmly against the ceiling of Donna's teacup-sized blue car. Ianto was cramped in the backseat with him, huddling against the door trying to make himself as small as possible, and still fearful of stray elbows.<p>

"Oi. There's a speed limit," Donna reprimanded. "I'm not going to jail in my wedding dress."

They whistled past a row of houses decorated with red garland. The Doctor eyed Ianto sidelong. "It's like driving a hairdryer." The corner of the Welshman's mouth twitched. Mission accomplished.

* * *

><p>"H.C. Clements might just be a locksmith's to you, but it was bought up 23 years ago by the Torchwood institute," the Doctor explained as he bent over a computer in the office of the company in question.<p>

"Who are they?" Donna asked. Nobody was looking at Ianto; he took his opportunity to retreat to the front desk as he heard the Doctor try to prompt her about Canary Wharf and the cyberman invasion. He hadn't realized until now that what had been all of eight hours for him would have been months for everyone else. He strayed back a few moments later. They didn't even notice he was gone.

"...stayed in business. I think someone came over and took over the operation." The Doctor banged a fist on the monitor in frustration.

"But what do they want with me?"

"Somehow, you've been dosed with huon energy." Lance shifted a bit in the corner of Ianto's eye as the Doctor gave Donna his full attention. "And that's a problem, because huon energy hasn't existed since the Dark times. The only place you'd find a huon particle now is a remnant in the heart of the TARDIS. See? That's what happened. Say..." He reached over to the desk, picking up a mug. "That's the TARDIS." He picked up a pencil. "This is you. The particles inside you activated..." He spun the mug round in his hand. "The two set of particles magnetise and WHAP!" He dropped the pencil inside the mug, wiggling it around a bit. "You were pulled inside the TARDIS!"

"I'm a pencil inside a mug?"

"Yes you are! 4H sums you up!"

"Rude," Ianto muttered from the corner, but the Doctor was off again.

"Lance, what was H.C. Clements working on? Anything special? Top secret? Do Not Enter?"

"I dunno, I'm in charge of personnel, I'm not the project manager..." The Doctor pulsed another computer with the sonic, downloading something. "Why am I even explaining myself, what the hell are we talking about?"

"They make keys, that's the point," the Doctor murmured to himself. "And look at this. We're on the third floor. Come on!" Ianto gave a beleaguered sigh.

"He always like this?" Lance asked. Ianto shrugged.

"Attention span of a chipmunk and energy of a caffeinated terrier? Been like this all day, I'm going to assume it's normal."

"And he dragged you into this?"

"Pretty much." Ianto didn't elaborate. Donna seemed a fairly straightforward sort of person, Lance, he didn't quite have the measure of yet. They found the lifts and the Doctor examined the buttons

"Underneath reception, there's a basement, yes? Then how come, when you look on the lift, there's a button marked lower basement?"

Ianto quirked a smile as he looked for himself. "There's a whole floor that doesn't exist on the official plans."

"Correct. So what's down there, then?" the Doctor wondered.

"You telling me this building's got a secret floor?" Lance asked incredulously.

"No, I'm showing you this building's got a secret floor," he replied lightly.

"Needs a key," Donna pointed out.

"I don't. Right, Ianto, you're with me. Don't go wandering off. You two, thanks, I can handle this. See you later."

"No chance, Martian boy." Donna stormed into the lift. "You're the man who keeps saving my life, I'm not letting you out of my sight." Ianto and the Doctor shot each other approving nods.

"Going down, then."

"Lance!" she snapped.

"Maybe I should go to the police," Lance offered, jerking his thumb off in the other direction, expression not quite reaching his eyes. _Was he on the level?_ Ianto thought to himself, and smiled inwardly. That was a terrible pun.

"Inside," Donna ordered. Lance hesitated and joined them.

"To honor and obey," the Doctor murmured with a straight face.

"Tell me about it, mate."

"Oi."


	4. The Runaway Bride: Pt 3

The elevator bell went _ding,_ and they stepped into a corridor, dimly lit with a sickly green glow.

"Where are we? Well, what goes on down 'ere?" Donna asked.

"Let's find out," the Doctor mumbled, looking about.

"D'you think Mr. Clements knows about this place?"

"Probably part of it," Ianto said casually. "If there's an underground secret base, chances are the cover man is in on it." Donna gave Ianto a funny look. He offered her a half smile. "Always was a bit keen on James Bond movies."

"Very good. Oooh, look: transport!" The Doctor disappeared, buzzing his sonic and teasing out a duckling-row of four segways. "Come on, then! Let's go poking around."

A few minutes later, the corridor began to echo with the gales of laughter as they rolled through the damp halls on their segways. Ianto allowed himself a rueful chuckle at their situation. They honestly did look ridiculous.

The Doctor pulled them to a stop and scouted out a hatch behind a door marked with the Torchwood logo. "Wait here! Just need to get my bearings. _Don't -"_ He looked them over sternly. " - do anything."

"You'd better come back," Donna said in a warning voice.

"Can't get rid of you if I tried," he said lightly. Donna watched his ascent as Lance tried to press her about whether or not they should be down there. Ianto wondered if Lance was a bit of a stickler for the rules, or just uncomfortable with breaking into his employer's underground base. Neither of them really took any notice of him, and the corridor was making him twitchy, pounding and echoing in a way that was uncomfortably reminiscent of stomping cyberman, at least to his mind.

He hopped back on his segway and spun in neat circles to keep himself distracted. "Ooh... mine's got a bell." He gave it an experimental _ding_.

Donna smiled at him, almost fondly, as though he were a precocious younger sibling. "I'm very pleased for you, Ianto."

A few moments later the Doctor dropped back down. "Thames Flood Barrier!" he announced. "We're right below it. Torchwood snuck in and built this place underneath."

"What, there's like a secret base hidden underneath a major London landmark?" Donna said skeptically.

"I know. Unheard of." He brushed past her with that flippant remark and she stared at him. He pushed through a set of doors, also marked Torchwood. "Ooh, look at this! This is stunning!" Ianto hopped off the segway and followed the others as the Doctor bounded ahead into a brightly lit laboratory, beaming at the tubes of water and shimmering metal pipes.

"A secret laboratory. A secret laboratory in an underground base beneath a major landmark behind an alien conspiracy," Ianto said dryly. "If we get invited to dinner by an evil genius with a white cat, I'll be sure to acknowledge his remarkable lack of imagination."

"But what does it all do?"

"Particle extrusion, hold on!" The Doctor delicately tapped a bubbling tube of liquid. "Brilliant," he whispered almost reverently. "They've been manufacturing huon particles." His tone became flippant again. "In case my people got rid of huons, they unravelled the atomic structure."

"Your people?" Lance queried. "Who are they? What company do you represent?"

"Ohh, I'm a... freelancer. And he's new on the job; getting work experience. But this lot, they're rebuilding them. Oh, they've been using the river! Extruding them through a flat hydrogen base til they've got the end result -" he palmed a hand-size tube of bubbles, "-huon particles in liquid form."

"And that's what inside me?" Donna asked. The Doctor inverted the tube gently and the particles inside glowed in a gold shimmer. So did Donna.

"Oh my god!"

"Genius," the Doctor breathed. "Because the particles are inert, they need something living to catalyze inside, and that's you. Saturate the body, and then..." his eyes widened. "HA! THE WEDDING!" Ianto flinched. Donna practically shot out of her skin as the Doctor spun around in glee, raking his fingers through his hair. "YES! You're getting married, that's it! Best day of your life, you're walking down the aisle -"

"Doctor," Ianto coughed.

"- your body's a battleground, there's a chemical _war_ inside! Adrenaline, Acetylcholine, WHAM! go the endorphins-"

"Doctor!" He was still ignored. Donna's jaw hung open, trying to process the words as the Doctor bounced in place like a puppy.

"- oh, you're cooking, you're like a walking oven, a pressure cooker, a microwave, all churning away, the particles reach boiling point, SHAZAM!"

"DOCTOR!" Ianto snapped, at the precise moment that Donna slapped him.

"What did I do this time?" he yelped.

"Are you enjoying this?" Donna reproached him indignantly. He slumped just a bit, not entirely catching her drift. "Look, just tell me. These particles. Are they dangerous? Am I safe?"

"Yeees!" The Doctor tried to sound blithe and reassuring. It fooled neither of them.

"Doctor. If your lot got rid of huon particles... why did they do that?"

He sighed. "Because they were deadly."

"Oh my god," she whispered. Ianto put a hand on her shoulder, wondering why Lance was still skulking awkwardly by the door.

"I'll sort it out, Donna," the Doctor said resolutely. "Whatever's been done to you, I'll reverse it, I promise, I am not about to lose someone else."

A demonic hiss echoed through the lab and a maliciously feminine voice cackled, "_Ohh, she is long since lost!" _The wall cranked upwards, revealing itself to be a partition between the lab and -

"Oh, look, the secret lair itself. It's about time." Ianto kept his tone detached, positioning himself on Donna's other side. He angled his head to keep an eye on Lance, who'd backed off near the door.

_"I have waited for so long... hibernating at the edge of the universe, until the secret heart was uncovered and called out to waken."_

"Hmmm.. still, it's a nice lair. Lance made a run for it, by the way," Ianto muttered. Hooded pilot-fish, sans Christmas disguises, turned their weapons on them. He choked on his commentary and stepped back a pace.

The Doctor stepped forward to examine the dark, perfectly circular abyss in the ground before them. "Someone's been digging. Oh, very Torchwood. Drilled by laser." His voice echoed below. "How far down does it go?"

_"Down, and down. All the way to the center of the earth."_

"Really?" He said quizzically. "Seriously, what for?"

"Dinosaurs?" Donna offered.

"What?"

"Dinosaurs."

"What are you on about, dinosaurs?"

"That film, Under the Earth. 'Bout dinosaurs. Trying to help."

"That's not helping."

"Torchwood doesn't do dinosaurs," Ianto interjected. "That's an entirely separate clandestine government organization."

"Oh, I know them. Nice gang. Pet mammoth."

"A mammoth?" Donna repeated skeptically.

"And a Coelurosauravus."

_"Such a sweet trio."_ The raspy voice mused. They blinked at each other.

"Only a madman talks to thin air," the Doctor declared.

"I'm sure you'd know," Ianto fired off before he could help himself.

"And trust me, you don't want to make me mad," the Doctor continued as though there had been no interruption. "Where are you?"

_"High in the sky. Floating so high on Christmas Night."_

"I didn't come all this way to talk on intercom! Come ooon, let's have a look at you!"

_"Who are you with such command?"_

"I'm The Doctor!"

_"Prepare your best medicines, little Doctor man! For you will be sick at heart!"_

Blue light flashed on the platform across from them, and a colossal figure materialized into the form of a hissing red-and-black she-spider.

"Racnoss," the Doctor whispered. "But that's impossible, you're one of the Racnoss!"

_"Empress of the Racnoss!"_ she snarled, drawing herself up.

"Alright, that's a shade more creative than an evil genius with a cat."

_"Ooh, the handsome boy is sooo brave."_

Ianto looked alarmed. "I'm going to ignore that," he mumbled to himself.

"Knew this bloke who wouldn't have minded so much," the Doctor muttered slyly, turning back to address the arachnid. "But if you're the Empress, where's the rest of the Racnoss? Or? Are you the only one?"

_"Such a sharp mind." _

Ianto stiffened. "Oh god. Doctor?" he trailed off, staring above the spider. The Doctor followed his gaze, eyeing the source of Ianto's distress, but kept talking.

"That's it, the last of your kind." He leaned toward Donna and Ianto. "The Racnoss come from the dark times, billions of years ago. They were carnivores - omnivores. They devoured whole planets!"

_"Racnoss are born starving. Is that our fault?"_

"They eat people?" Donna gasped.

"H.C. Clements, did he wear those - those, um, black and white shoes?" The Doctor mumbled.

"He did! We used to laugh, we used to call him 'the fat cat in spats.'" Donna followed Ianto's gaze to the spot on the ceiling where said black and white shoes were peeking out of the spiderwebs. "Oh my _God!_" Donna gasped.

_"Mmm, my Christmas dinner."_

"You shouldn't even exist!" the Doctor snapped, before turning back to Ianto and Donna. "Way back in history the Fledgling Empires went to war against the Racnoss. They were wiped out!"

_"Except for me." _Movement flashed behind the Empress. Ianto and Donna both caught sight of Lance, who gestured with his finger to his lips. Ianto frowned when he saw the axe he was carrying. This wouldn't end well. Heroic gestures looked wonderful when they succeeded, but left a bloody mess when they failed. Donna stepped forward to keep the spider's attention on her.

"But that's what I've got inside me, isn't it? That huon energy thing. OI! Look at me, Lady, I'm talking! Where do I fit in? How come I get all stacked up with these huon particles? Look me in the eye and tell me!"

_"The bride is so fiesty." _Lance was within a few feet by now.

"Yeah, I am. And I dunno what you are, you big... thing, but a spider's just a spider, and an axe is an axe! Now _do it!" _Lance raised the axe above his head. The Empress raged and snarled at him. He froze... and began laughing.

"That was a good one, your face."

_"Lance is funny."_

"So much for the benefit of the doubt," Ianto sighed.

"What?" Donna looked confounded. The Doctor leaned in and murmured, "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what? Lance, don't be so stupid, get her!"

"God, she's thick," Lance said contemptuously. "Months I had to put up with her - months! A woman who can't even point to Germany on a map!"

"But... I don't understand," Donna mumbled.

"There's always an inside man." Ianto eyed Lance coolly. "How did you meet him?"

"I- in the office."

"He made you coffee," the Doctor continued.

"What?"

"Every day I made you coffee." Lance strutted in front of the Empress, and Ianto's lip curled in a hostile snarl.

"You had to be dosed with liquid particles for over six months," the Doctor explained. Ianto stuck his hands in his too-deep pockets, feeling hopefully for a projectile to fire at Lance's bald pate. He recovered only a handkerchief with an embroidered question mark, some candy wrappers, and a couple of tiny, glossy feathers, which was probably just as well. Chucking something at Lance would probably earn him death by pilot-fish.

"He was _poisoning_ me?" Donna whispered.

"It was all there it the job title - head of human resources," the Doctor addressed Lance bitterly.

"This time, it's personnel!" he called back.

"And, you've just lost yourself another point for lack of style. I am keeping score," Ianto retorted. "Puns are only acceptable if our side makes them."

"But…but…we were getting married."

Lance proceeded to dash her hopes to bits. "Well, I couldn't risk you running off! I had to say yes, and then I was stuck with a woman who thinks the new high of excitement is a new flavour _Pringle!_ Oh, I had to sit there and listen to all that yap, _yap_, _YAP!_ Oh, Brad and Angelina! Is Posh pregnant? X-factor, Atkins diets, feng shui, split ends, text me, text me, _text _me! The _never ending _mountain of fat, stupid trivia! I deserve a medal!"

"Oh, is that what she's offered you?" the Doctor called scathingly. "The Empress of the Racnoss?" He made a face. "What are you, her consort?"

"Retcon me now, please," Ianto muttered.

"Better than a night with her," Lance shot back.

"But... I love you." Donna said quietly.

"That's what made it easy." Ianto growled something terribly unflattering in Welsh and began scouring the floor for pebbles. "It's like you said, Doctor," Lance continued. "The big picture. What's the point of it all if the human race is nothing? That's what the Empress can give me... the chance to go out there, to see it. The size of it all. I think _you_ would understand that... don't you, Doctor?" Ianto risked a glance at the scowling Time Lord.

He gestured at the never-ending hole. "Can I shove him in?"

"Only if I'm not looking," the Doctor muttered back. Then he caught his eye properly and gave a tiny shake of his head. Ianto pouted, and Donna shot him a flicker of a grateful smile.

_"Who is this little physician?"_ the Empress hissed to Lance.

"She said - Martian."

The Doctor swapped moods again, casually leaning forward, peering down the laser-drilled hole. "Oh, I'm sort of - homeless, but the point is, what's down here? The Racnoss are extinct, what's gonna help you four thousand miles down? That's just the molten core of the Earth, i'nit?"

"I think he wants us to talk," Lance said condescendingly.

_"I think so too."_

"Well, tough. All we need is Donna."

"Worth a shot," the Doctor shrugged.

"Mmm. A point to them, you'd be amazed by the number of villains and conspirators that fall into that one," Ianto mused idly. "Oh, and Lance? Are you aware that female spiders tend to devour their mates?" He smirked inwardly when Lance faltered.

The Empress hissed, and Ianto's malicious glee evaporated. "_Kill the chattering Doctor-man and his handsome friend."_

"Don't you hurt 'em!" Donna yelled, stepping in front of them.

"No, no, Donna, it's all right," the Doctor said calmly, but she didn't budge.

"No! I won't let them!"

"_At arms!" _the Empress commanded. The pilot-fish swiveled around and loaded their weapons.

"_Ah! _Now, except-" the Doctor started, putting both of his pointer fingers up.

She ignored him. _"Take aim!"_

"Well, I just want to point out the obvious-"

_"They won't hit the bride. They're such very good shots."_

Donna tried to stay in front of Ianto, but he murmured, "He's planning something. Let him talk."

"No. J-j-j-ju-jus-just hold on, hold on just a tick, just a tiny little er… tick! If you think about it, the particles activated Donna and drew her inside my space ship…so, reverse it and..." He pulled out the tube of liquid particles. " - the space ship comes to her!" He pointed the sonic at Donna and pressed the main button. She glowed the same colour as the tube.

_"Fire!"_ the Empress screamed. Bullets shattered the air, as grey smoke surrounded them and formed the TARDIS console room. The engines ground and whooshed and they were off.

* * *

><p>The Doctor was once again in hummingbird mode, skipping about the console and chattering effusively. "Oh, do you know what I said before, about having a time machine? Well, I lied. And now we're gonna use it. We need to find out what the Empress of the Racnoss is digging up. If something's buried at the planet's core, then it must have been there since the beginning, that's just brilliant! <em>Molto Bene! <em>I've always wanted to see this, we are going back further than I've ever been before..." He trailed off.

Donna was sitting on the console seat with her back to him, clutching at the question mark handkerchief from Ianto's borrowed suit. Ianto himself was leaning against the fork of one of the pillars of coral with his head back and eyes closed. The Doctor spent the next few minutes mercifully silent, while the TARDIS hummed a soothing rhythm.

"We've arrived," he said gently. "Wanna see?"

Donna wiped the last few tears from her face. "I suppose."

He swiveled the screen around. "Hang on, scanner's a bit small. Maybe your way's best." He trotted down the ramp to the doors. "Come on. You too, Ianto. No human's ever seen this: you two'll be the first."

"All I wanna see is my bed," Donna said shortly.

He smiled and pulled the doors open. "Donna Noble, Ianto Jones, welcome - to the creation of Earth." Massive boulders and a cloud of dust and pebbles drifted gently against a wave of colors; blues, reds, purples, glowing in the gentle blaze of a new-born sun.

Ianto shivered, mind suddenly blank at the incomprehensibility - that they could stop what they were doing to bear witness to a moment of impossible magnitude in, apparently, the time and effort it took to pop down to the store for milk.

"We've gone back 4.6 billion years." The Doctor's voice was hushed in reverence. "There's no solar system, not yet. Only dust, and rocks, and gas." His tone brightened. "That's the sun! Over there, brand new! Just beginning to burn."

"Where's the Earth?"

"All around us. In the dust."

"Really puts the wedding in perspective," Donna muttered. "Lance was right. We're just... tiny."

"No, but that's what you do," the Doctor said warmly, nudging her in the shoulder. "The human race, making sense out of chaos! Marking it out with weddings, and Christmases, and calendars. This whole process is beautiful. But only if it's being observed."

"So we came out of all this?"

"Isn't that brilliant?" A boulder glided past the doors of the TARDIS.

"I think that's the Isle of Wight," Donna laughed softly.

"Eventually, gravity takes hold," the Doctor explained enthusiastically. "Say, one big rock, heavier than the others, starts to pull all the other rocks towards it. All the dust and gas and elements get pulled in, everything, piling in until you get..."

"The Earth."

"But the question is... what was that first rock?" On cue, a mass of spikes drifted out of the dust. "The Racnoss," the Doctor whispered. He wheeled around and scampered to the console, rotating a lever. "Hold on. The Racnoss are hiding from the war. What's it doing?"

"Exactly what you said," Donna called back. The rocks and boulders were drawn to the cluster of spikes like a magnet.

"Ohhh, they didn't just bury something at the center of the Earth, they _became_ the center of the Earth! The first rock..." The console made a crashing noise behind them and the ship jolted.

"What was that?" The Doctor pulled them away from the doors.

"Trouble," he replied. The room was rocking and shifting. Ianto tried to keep his balance, and ended up clinging to one of the rails. The Doctor stumbled and was tossed to the floor.

"What the hell's it doing?" Donna protested.

"That little trick of mine? Particles pulling particles? Well, it works in reverse, and they're pulling us back!"

"Well, can't you stop it?"

"Haven't you got a handbrake?" Ianto pressed.

"Can't you reverse, or warp, or... beam, or something?" Donna grasped for other options.

"Backseat drivers," the Doctor muttered to himself. "OH! Wait a minute!" He grabbed a surfboard-like object that was pulsing with blue lights and set it up on the console. "The extrapolator! Can't stop us, but it should give us a good bump! And... NOW!" He banged on it with a mallet, and the TARDIS dematerialized again. They trio burst out the doors into one of the dim corridors.

"We're about two hundred yards to the right. Come on!" They reached another Authorized Personnel Only doors.

"What's the plan, Doctor?" Ianto asked as the alien put a stethoscope to the door.

"I dunno, I make it up as I go along. But trust me, I've got a history."

"Oh, so you're Indiana Jones now. Well, that's incredibly reassuring."

"D'you mind? Seriously, all the sarcasm?"

"It's a coping mechanism."

"Oh, fine. 'S better than panicking, I suppose." Oh, he would say that. Right then, right when Ianto saw the pilot-fish. Between the robots and the dim green lighting, his mind shot back to Canary Wharf and he choked on his own words, no sound coming out.

"But I still don't understand," Donna cut in. "I'm full of particles, but what for?" She didn't even manage a squeak when the other scavenger clamped a hand around her mouth and dragged both her and Ianto away.

"There's a Racnoss web at the center of the Earth, but my people unravelled their power source." The Doctor explained, still with his ear to the wall, entirely oblivious. "The huon particles ceased to exist and the Racnoss were stuck, they just stayed in hibernation for billions of years, frozen, dead, _kaput! _So you're the new key, brand new particles, living particles, they need you to open it, and you have never been so quiet... ARGH!" The corridor was deserted. He spun in a circle in frustration, before pulsing the door open and stared down the barrel of a pilot-fish gun.

* * *

><p><strong>"My bike's got a bell" was an adorable moment from the Torchwood Radio episode Lost Souls. The clandestine government organization that deals with dinosaurs is the Anomaly Research Center from Primeval. Also, the line about heroic gestures was paraphrased from an episode of Primeval. Cookies to you if you got all of these, but let me know if they're a distraction. I can keep them to a minimum if necessary. And with that in mind, please review, let me know what is and isn't working, I would love to see feedback. Cheers!<strong>


	5. The Runaway Bride: Pt 4

Donna and Lance were bound in sticky spiderwebs, suspended above the fathomless shaft to the center of the earth. Ianto was in a similar predicament, about eight feet to Donna's right, struggling against the webs to see if he could free his hands, possibly to reach his pockets.

"I hate you," Donna groused at her traitorous fiance.

"I think we've gone a bit beyond that by now, sweetheart," Lance retorted.

_"Ah, my golden couple!" t_he Empress exclaimed. _"Together at last. Your awful wedded life! Tell me - do you want to be released?"_

"Yes!" the two chorused.

_"You're supposed to say, 'I do!'"_

"Ha! No chance!" Lance scoffed.

_"Say it!" _

Begrudgingly, Lance muttered, "I do." Donna repeated it a moment later.

_"I DON'T!"_ The Empress cackled. _"Activate the particles! Purge every last one!"_

_At least she didn't take herself literally, and drop them_, Ianto mused. The pair began to shimmer and glow golden, and the huon particles shot down to the center of the Earth.

_"The secret heart unlocks. They will awaken from their sleep of ages"_

"Who will?" Donna yelled. "What's down there?"

"How thick are you?" Lance snapped. Ianto glared at him again, before gently reminding Donna, "The first rock, remember?"

_"My children. The long-lost Racnoss, now reborn to feast on flesh. The web-star shall come to me!"_

"Right. I'm docking more points for the cheesy, grandiose speeches," Ianto grumbled.

"You're still bloody keeping score?"

"It's an alien conspiracy for world annihilation. Poor style is inexcusable." She looked at him cagily. He sighed. "That and I haven't entirely ruled out the possibility that this entire thing is a hallucination that I've invented while slowly dying in Canary Wharf. It's not exactly comforting, but then, neither is this. We're going to die in the villain's ridiculous death-trap, dropped to the center of the Earth, and devoured by alien spiders."

"_My children will be hungry. They will need sustenance. Perish the web!"_

"Use 'er! Not me!" Lance yelled desperately. "Use them!"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Saying that's only going to get you killed first."

_"Oh, my funny little Lance. The handsome boy is right: you were quite impolite to your lady-friend. The Empress does not approve." _She hissed and reared her front set of lithe pincers. The bonds broke, and Lance fell screaming into the chasm below. Donna looked on, horrorstruck. Ianto shuddered.

_"My children are climbing towards me. And none shall stop them." _The Empress wheeled her head towards the metal stairwell. _"So you might as well unmask, my clever little Doctor-man." _The 'pilot-fish' that had been ascending the platform shrugged off its cloak and mask.

"Ah well. Nice try." He pulled out the sonic. "Get ready to swing!" The spiderwebs released them and they each gripped thick strands, sailing in an arc, past the Empress and across the pit. "S'alright, Donna, I've got you!" the Doctor yelled, holding his arms out. Ianto realized her trajectory was too low. He landed first, dropping to his feet on the concrete floor and was promptly knocked to the ground as Donna crashed into him. He helped her to her feet and she stared up at the Doctor.

"Thanks for nothing, Martian boy."

"You're welcome," he called cheerily. "Least you've not been eaten."

_"The Doctor-man amuses me,"_ the Empress rasped.

"Empress of the Racnoss, I give you one last chance." The Doctor's tone became authoritative, losing every trace of the bouncy hummingbird. "I can find you a planet. I can find you and your children a place in the universe to co-exist. Take that offer and end this now."

_"These men are so funny."_

"What's your answer?"

_"I'm afraid I have to decline,"_ she cackled again.

"Then what happens next is your own doing." Ianto shivered. The Doctor's voice was level and yet the amount of power he projected was unmistakable. And the Racnoss wasn't taking him seriously. This would not go down well.

_"I'll show you what happens next,"_ she hissed at him. "_At arms!"_ The pilot-fish goons raised their guns._ "Take aim! And-"_

"Relax," the Doctor said lightly. The robots slumped from the middle down.

"What did you do?" Donna asked, looking up at him.

"Guess what I've got, Donna?" he announced. "Pockets!"He waggled the radio remote from the party as Donna gawked at him.

"How did that fit in there?"

"They're bigger on the inside!"

"_Roboforms are not necessary! My children will feast on Martian flesh!"_

"Oh, but I'm not from Mars." The Empress faltered.

_"Then where?"_

"My home planet is far away and long since gone. But its name lives on. _Gallifrey." _The spider roared at him.

_"They MURDERED the Racnoss!"_

"I warned you. You did this." The Time Lord's quiet fury was eerie. Donna stepped closer to Ianto, and he put his arm around her shoulder. With a few deft sweeps of his arm, the Doctor launched the red Christmas tree baubles, and they hovered around the Empress as he aimed the radio controller while she screamed at him. The entire building shook as the charges detonated, and cascades of water thundered through the corridors. More baubles exploded and fires went up. Ianto shielded Donna from the force of the blasts, though they were both shortly drenched. The room blazed, water deluged into the pit, and the Empress wailed for her children. The two humans gazed up at the Doctor, at the faraway, deadened look in his eyes. Ianto nearly sank to the ground. The fire, the chaos, the robots, the screams... maybe he really was hallucinating. Maybe there was nothing more he could do. Finally, Donna took matters into her own hands.

"DOCTOR! You can stop now!" she yelled. It got his attention, and he hesitated. Ianto snapped out of it. Donna had her hands on her hips and was staring up at the Doctor. He shook his head to clear the muddled fog, and joined in.

"You're overdoing it again, Doctor, THAT'S ENOUGH!"

To their relief, he called, "Right! Time I got you out!" He led them up the staircase, out to one of the shafts and up a ladder.

"But what about the Empress?" Donna yelled while they were climbing.

"She's used up all her huon energy, she's defenseless!" The Doctor lifted the hatch, and the sky was lit with whistling explosions that struck the spiny star that was the Racnoss ship. It combusted in the night sky like a massive firework, and fragments of webs disintegrated. And then it was quiet. The three of them hauled themselves from the escape hatch, whooping and clinging to each other and shaking in relief.

"There's just, one problem." Donna gasped. "We've drained the Thames."

* * *

><p>"What about your TARDIS, Doctor?" Ianto asked. They sat under the stars as the fish flopped in the riverbed and hundreds of boats honked in confusion. "Wasn't she in the midst of the flood?"<p>

"Oh, she can survive the end of the world. Has done, I got told off for parking her in the middle of the place..." he trailed off, his eyes turning dark as he remembered Rose's first trip in the TARDIS. Donna gave a shiver. She was wearing Ianto's suit jacket, but they were still soaked through and the air was freezing. "Few more minutes and we can go back." Donna shifted closer to Ianto and nudged him gently.

"What did you mean, up there, when you said you thought it was all a hallucination?" Ianto looked away. He was hoping she'd forgotten about it. "Ianto? What happened?"

"Doesn't matter," he said quickly.

"'Course it does." Ianto didn't reply. "Alright, you don't 'ave to. But if you need to talk about it... you two saved my life, least I can do is listen." Ianto looked back and she gave him an encouraging smile.

"Time travel..." he began, "it's all bit much to wrap your head around. The Doctor told you about Torchwood and the cybermen at Canary Wharf?"

"A bit, yeah."

"I was there. In the middle of it. About... nine hours ago."

"What?" Donna whispered.

"I was employed there. The cybermen attacked... I was down in the lower levels for most it. The Doctor defeated them, and the Daleks, you'd have to ask him how. But they killed and converted all of the other employees, made them like themselves."

"So everyone there, all your friends and colleagues..." He shut his eyes and nodded, fingers clenching the cement until his knuckles turned white. "It's more than that, isn't it," Donna said softly. "You lost somebody you cared about, someone really important to you." What was left of his mask of composure splintered into fragments as his voice broke and his eyes watered.

"My girlfriend. My Lisa. I couldn't save her, I hid while they were dragging her off, there were cybermen everywhere. They didn't finish converting her, she was still human. I thought I could fix it, that I could get her out, find a cure, reverse it. Then the Doctor found us, but there wasn't anything he could do. She told him to get me out." He didn't want to see the pity in her eyes, but her face was soft with only compassion.

"And you wouldn't have left if he hadn't made you. It's not just him, then? Changing the subject, avoiding the question, making snarky James Bond jokes... we've been running all about and I've been worrying about my wedding. And here both of you've lost somebody, and been trying to hide it. I'm sorry, Ianto." He stiffened a bit and tried to brush it off.

"Doesn't matter. I suppose we're in the same boat, now."

"Does matter," she insisted quietly. "Lance would've had me fall. You and your Lisa, you should 'ave had a proper chance. Come 'ere." She wrapped her arm around him in an wet, one-armed hug. He smiled weakly.

"Thank you," he said quietly. She looked at him oddly and he went on. "Back there, I nearly gave up. I thought it was all in my head, and he was just standing there... if you hadn't said anything, I don't think..." He trailed off and she gave his arm a quick squeeze.

"Come on, you two," the Doctor called. "Time to be getting on." They clambered back through the hatch and squelched down the slick wet corridor to the blue box waiting faithfully. Donna gave the Doctor the location of her home, and he started flicking dials as she took a closer look at the inside of the console room. After a few moments, they opened the doors and stepped out on Donna's street.

"There we go, told you she'd be alright. Survive anything."

"More than I've done." Donna mumbled. The Doctor pulled out the screwdriver and scanned her again, and she was too exhausted to be annoyed.

"Nope, all the huon particles have gone. No damage, you're fine."

"Yeah, but 'part from that..." She sighed heavily. "I missed my wedding, lost my job, and became a widow on the same day. Sort of."

"I couldn't save him," the Doctor said quietly.

"He deserved it." Donna's voice was a little too fervent, as though she was trying to convince herself. The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "No, he didn't," she admitted. "Better get inside. They'll be worried." They could see Donna's parents hugging in the window.

"Best Christmas present they could have," the Doctor said cheerfully. "Oh, no, I forgot; you hate Christmas."

"Yeah. I do."

"Even..." he leaned back against the TARDIS. "If it snows?" The light on top glowed and pulsed a projectile into the sky, splitting like a firework and cascading snowfall all about them. Ianto felt a genuine smile creep onto his face as Donna giggled hysterically, "I can't believe you did that!"

"Oh, basic atmospheric excitation," the Doctor said smugly. Donna smiled. "Merry Christmas."

"And you."

"What will you do now?" Ianto asked.

"Not getting married, for starters. And - I'm not gonna temp anymore. I dunno... travel. See a bit more of planet Earth. Walk in the dust. Just... go out there and do something." The Doctor and Ianto traded glances.

"Weelll... you could always..." the Doctor began.

"What?"

"Come with me."

"No," she said firmly, if a little regretfully.

"Okay." He brushed it off, a bit too lightly, Ianto could tell he did hope that she'd say yes.

"I can't."

"No, that's fine."

"No, but really." She tried to make him see. "After everything we did today... do you live your life like that?" His eyes were bright and innocent looking.

"Not all the time." But Donna smiled knowingly.

"I think you do. And I couldn't."

"But you've seen it out there... it's beautiful."

"And it's terrible. That place was flooding and burning and they were _dying_ and you just stood there like... I don't know. A stranger. And then you made it snow! I mean, you scare me to death!"

"Well then."

"Tell you what I will do, though. Christmas dinner." Ianto looked at the Doctor hopefully: he was starving. But the Time Lord looked almost alarmed at the thought.

"Oh, come on," Donna wheedled.

"I don't do that sort of thing," he insisted.

"You did it last year, you said so. And you might as well, my Mum always cooks enough for twenty." He shifted and squirmed in place. It was almost cute.

"Oh, alright then. But you go first, better warn them. And... don't say I'm a Martian. We'll be along in a bit, once we get this one some dry clothes." The Doctor looked at him pointedly. "Can't have him catching a cold, you humans and your funny little immune systems." Ianto should have known. Unless he stayed out here? No, he might actually leave him here. And he was wet.

"Yes, mum." Ianto gave Donna a regretful look, stepping inside the TARDIS. Donna caught on to the same conclusion he did: the engines had barely started whooshing when they heard "DOCTOR! DOCTOR!"

"Blimey, you can shout." The alien poked his head out the door.

"Am I ever going to see you two again?"

"If we're lucky." His tone was breezy, but the sentiment sincere.

"Just... promise me one thing." He straightened a bit, giving her his full attention. "Keep 'im around. He's a good kid. Unless he does the same as I do, in which case, you need to find someone. Don't go running off alone."

"I don't need anyone."

Donna gave him a _look._ "Yes, you do. Because sometimes... I think you need someone to stop you."

"Yeah," the Doctor sighed. "Well, thank you, Donna. Good luck! And just..." He paused and gave her a long look. "...be magnificent." She chuckled a bit and tried to blink back tears.

"I think I will, yeah." He smiled and withdrew. "Doctor," she said again, and the door swung back open.

"What is it now?"

"Here. Can't go running off with Ianto's jacket. Even if it is a bit wet." She shrugged it off her shoulders and handed it off. "Look after him, yeah? Make sure he's gonna be alright? And look after yourself, too." she said softly. The Doctor glanced back to see the Welshman disappear down the TARDIS corridor. "I will. Promise."

Just outside the door, Donna asked, "Doctor, your friend. The one you lost. What was her name?" The lonely man's dark eyes glittered with emotion.

"Her name was Rose," he said thickly. The wind gusted flakes into Donna's hair as the TARDIS disappeared into the night.


	6. Smith & Jones & Jones: Pt 1

"Like so!" Martha jumped as a skinny man all but materialized before her in a flourish of sweeping hair and long brown coat. He loosened his tie, slipped it over his head, and held it up. "See?" He was gone as quickly as he'd come.

Barely half a block down, a pale young man in a snappy suit was leaning against a wall, holding a stopwatch. He caught her eye and winked. "Benjamin Franklin." There was a bit of a lilt to his voice, something about his accent didn't strike her as local. He turned on his heel and disappeared down a side street.

_Must be some sort of prank, _Martha considered. _Maybe Tish put them up to this. They were both rather cute. _When she got pushed to the side by a tall motorcyclist in a helmet and black leather, she was beginning to wonder what kind of day it was shaping up to be. The static electricity on the door... well, that could have been anything. She kept it in the back of her mind as she and her peers did their rounds, checking on the elderly Ms. Finnegan. Their supervisor, Mr. Stoker, was haranguing them about salt when she saw the motorcyclist again. When an identical one stepped out of a lift and strode off in pace with the other, her weirdness sensor started going off.

Mr. Stoker drew back the privacy curtain for one of the patients in Ward 49.

"Now then, Mr. Smith. A very good morning, and how are you today?" Martha stared. It was the same man in the brown coat on the street.

"Oh, not so bad, still a bit, y'know... Bleahh..." the patient fired off, giving the impression of perfect health and high spirits.

"John Smith, admitted yesterday with severe abdominal pains," Mr. Stoker continued. "Jones, why don't you see what you can find? Amaze me."

Martha unhooked her stethoscope and moved to his other side. "Wasn't very clever, running around outside, was it?" she admonished the chipper patient.

"Sorry?" His eyes were wide, completely innocent.

"Chancellor Street, this morning." She put her stethoscope around her ears. "You came up and took your tie off."

"Really? What'd I do that for?" he asked, mystified.

"I dunno, you just did."

"Not me." He shook his head. "I was here, I was in bed, you can ask the nurses."

"That's weird, 'cause it looked like you, have you got a brother?"

"Nope, not any more. Just me!"

"As time passes and I grow ever more infirm and weary, Miss Jones?" Mr. Stoker cut in imperiously.

Martha looked up, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry, um. Right..." She placed the stethoscope to the right side of his chest. Wait... was that an echo? She moved it to the left side. No... that was... that couldn't be. And then he winked at her. _Blimey,_ she thought, _he's very, very cute and he's got two hearts._

"I weep for future generations, are you having trouble locating the heart, Ms. Jones?"

Ooh, moment gone.

"Erm... I don't know -" Flustered, she grasped for a diagnosis. "Stomach cramps?"

"That's a symptom, not a diagnosis, and you rather failed basic techniques by not consulting first with the patient's chart -" Mr. Stoker reached for the clipboard. It buzzed with energy and he dropped it on the bed.

"That happened to me this morning," Martha told him.

"Same thing, off the door handle," Oliver Morgenstern added.

"And me, in the lift," Julia piped up.

"Only to be expected, there's a thunderstorm moving in, lightning being a form of static electricity, as first proven by," Mr. Stoker faltered and tried to cover it with a test, "anyone?"

"Benjamin Franklin." Mr. Smith barely missed a beat.

"Correct." Stoker seemed keen to move on, while the patient started soliloquizing reminiscently.

"My mate Ben, that was a day and a half, I got rope burns off that kite! 'N then I got soaked!"

"...Quite," Stoker mumbled.

"Then he got electrocuted," a new voice spoke up from behind the little group of students. "Twice." Martha stared as the other young man who had mentioned Benjamin Franklin on the street that morning - definitely Welsh, now that she heard that accent again - approached with a bowl of grapes.

"Yup!" Smith looked entirely too happy about it.

"That's what comes of showing off." The newcomer looked to Mr. Stoker, his disapproval abruptly vanishing into a cordial smile, so guileless as to pass for positively angelic. "The lady at reception told me it was alright to stop by, I hope I'm not in your way?"

"Not at all, I do think we're finished here," Stoker harrumphed, easily disarmed by the perfectly calculated deference. He added in an undertone, "Though I may see about recommending a psychiatric evaluation for Mr. Smith."

The young man winced sympathetically and took a seat as Stoker and the students began to move off.

"Do I show off?" Mr. Smith demanded.

"Just a bit," his visitor deadpanned, and popped a grape into his mouth. Martha hung to the back of the group, trying to watch without them noticing. No such luck, as Mr. Smith beamed at her.

"He wants you to have a psych eval. I hope you're pleased with yourself."

"Must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays."

Martha managed to pass a full hour weirdness free. Then Mr. Smith skulked past the kitchen, looking about darkly. Then the rain started going up, followed by the 'earthquake.' Martha stared out of the staff room window, gazing at the swirling blue orb that was home, now so far away.

"We're on the bloody moon."

* * *

><p>The entire hospital was in hysterics. When the dust had settled from the earthquake, Ianto kept himself busy trying to calm the frightened people in the ward. Finally, the Doctor strode in after his jaunt through the halls.<p>

"And what sort of time is this?"

"Sorry, _Mummy._" He yanked hid curtain shut.

"Alright, everyone!" a young woman's voice called out in ringing tones. "Back to bed, we've got an emergency but we'll sort it out, don't worry." Ianto watched as two of the students he saw earlier strode through the ward over to the window. "It's real! It's really real! Hold on..."

She reached for the window, and her friend grabbed her arm, crying "Don't! We'll lose all the air!"

"But they're not exactly airtight," she argued, "if the air was gonna get sucked out it would have happened straightaway, but it didn't! So how come..."

"Very good point!" _Schhiinnk,_ went the curtains, and the Doctor strode out in a blue suit and converse. Ianto rolled his eyes, because the admittedly very beautiful medical student definitely shot him a bright, interested smile before tamping it down to polite acknowledgement, while the Doctor had definitely spiffed up his hair just a bit. "Brilliant, in fact, what's your name?" he went on.

"Martha," she said a little too levelly, in a way that definitely bordered on thinly veiled interest.

"Jones, wasn't it? Right, then, Martha Jones, question is, how are we still breathing?"

"We can't be," Julia choked.

"But obviously, we are, so don't waste my time..." He peered at the window. "Martha, what have we got, is there a balcony on this floor, or a verandah, or...?"

"By the patients' lounge, yeah."

"Patients' lounge, brilliant, mind showing us the way?"

Martha's eyes caught on to Ianto, and she glanced between them curiously. "Okay."

"We might die," the Doctor challenged.

"We might not," she contradicted.

"Good!" He was impressed. "Come on -" He glanced at Julia. "Not her, she'd hold us up."

Ianto gave him a look as Julia started to cry even more, but said nothing as they hurried off.

Martha kept looking oddly at them both, bit her tongue, and spoke. "Look, I know now's not really the time, but I saw both of you on Chancellor Street this morning. And... sorry, what was your name?"

"Jones."

"Very funny."

"It is, though." he said testily. "Jones. Ianto Jones."

"John Smith and Ianto Jones, names so common they're practically not. Are those like code names or something? Are you spies?"

The Doctor eyed Ianto sidelong. "You've _got_ to stop doing the Bond introduction thing."

"I don't actually do that purpose. It's just a reflex. Protocol dictated surname basis with all the higher ups, except with the Director."

"Mmh, yeah, Director I'm-a-people-person."

"So you are spies," Martha said flatly.

"You're a Jones. By that same logic, you're a spy too," Ianto remarked.

"She's got a point, actually." The Doctor scratched the back of his neck. "You _really_ sounded like one just then." Ianto gave him a withering look.

Martha looked torn between amusement and frustration. "Is this like in the films when the agent who follows all the rules gets assigned on a mission with the rogue expert guy who gives everyone trouble?"

"Close enough," Ianto admitted.

"Listen, when I saw you this morning you said Benjamin Franklin, and then he brought him up during the rounds this morning."

"Technically your Mr. Stoker brought up the subject -"

"Don't technically me! If you're just pretending that you've never seen me before, you can drop the act. Now, do you know what's going on, or don't you?"

"We don't know exactly what's happening, but we thought that something might happen and that it'd be best if we were in place to deal with it if and when it did," the Doctor shot off rapid-fire. "And we're not pretending anything, but I have a niggling suspicion as to why you saw us and if we don't die horribly I will explain when I get the chance. That do for now?"

Martha nodded slowly. "Balcony's on your right."

They pushed their way through the glass doors and out onto the balcony, to find that they could still breathe normally.

"We've got air. How does that work?" Martha whispered.

"I'm just glad it does." Ianto said dryly, peering over the wall.

"I've got a party tonight. My brother's twenty first. Oh, my mother's gonna be..." she choked on her words, trying not to cry.

"You okay?" the Doctor asked quietly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"D'you want to go back in?"

"No way. I mean, we could die, any minute, but all the same..." she smiled. "It's beautiful."

"D'you think?" He looked up.

"How many people want to go to the moon? And here we are."

"Standing in the earthlight."

"Okay, right. Hospital on the moon. What d'you think happened? You seem like you have some idea." She looked between them.

"What do you think?" the Doctor asked pointedly.

"Extraterrestrial," she decided. "Got to be. I dunno, few years ago, that would've sounded mad, but these days... that spaceship flying into Big Ben. Christmas. And those Cybermen things, that battle in the sky... I had a cousin, Adeola." Ianto flinched as Martha's voice choked up again. "She worked at Canary Wharf. Never came home."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor whispered. "I was there."

"We both were. I worked there too," Ianto murmured on her other side.

"You made it out?"

He looked at Martha, eyes wide. "Because of him. I knew your cousin; not well, but we'd met. She was a lovely person. I am so sorry."

She smiled weakly. "Yeah." She gathered herself and considered. "So, why are we here, _how_ are we here, and how do we get back?" This earned her another expectant look. She frowned, but continued to think out loud. "This is just one building, not like random bits of a city block, so it could be here on purpose - something or someone targeted it and brought it here, maybe? I suppose the rain going up had something to do with the how. If the how is alien technology that puts a bit of a damper on the getting back."

The Doctor nodded approvingly. "Given what little we have to go by at the moment, I think you've probably got the picture of things. And you were right, by the way. I'm not Smith. That's not my real name."

Martha whipped around as he peered over the edge of the balcony. "Who are you, then?"

"I'm the Doctor."

"Me too, if I ever pass my exams." She chuckled. "What is it, then, Doctor Smith?"

"Just the Doctor."

"What do you mean, just the Doctor?"

"Just... the Doctor."

"What, people call you the Doctor?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I occasionally call him 'No no stop don't eat that.'" Ianto said reflectively. "He doesn't answer to it, though." She looked at him funny, and he continued. "He's like a three-year-old, always putting strange objects his mouth."

"Oi!"

"Purple cepholipede tentacles?"

"It's a delicacy on Marlick 17!"

Martha looked between them dubiously, and Ianto gave her a wry smile. "And, for the record, Ianto Jones _is_ my real name."

"Alright, then. But I'm not calling him Doctor, as far as I'm concerned you've got to earn that title."

"Better get started, then." The Doctor picked up a loose bit of tile and hurled it off the balcony. "Must be some sort of..." there was a buzzy sort of noise and ripples in the air in front of them. "Force field. Keeping the air in."

"But if we're sealed in a bubble, that means this is the only air we've got," Martha said worriedly. "What happens when it runs out?"

"How many people in this hospital?"

"Dunno, a thousand?"

The Doctor's eyes widened, dark and dangerous. "One thousand people. Suffocating."

"Why would anyone do that?" The force field reverberated with the thrumming of massive engines.

"Heads up... ask 'em yourself." Huge, cylindrical crafts, gun-metal gray, touched down on the surface of the moon, and rows and rows of black figures marched like ants in formation towards the hospital.

"Aliens... real, proper aliens!" Martha stared down in disbelief.

"Compensating," Ianto murmured under his breath.

"Judoon," the Doctor said darkly.


	7. Smith & Jones & Jones: Pt 2

The three of them slunk towards the viewing balcony above the lobby. People screamed and panicked as the helmed and armored aliens examined them, marking them with black Xs on their hands. Chairs were strewn about, papers and pamphlets littered the floor, plants were overturned, and...

"Ooh, look down there, they've got a little shop. I love a little shop." Ianto looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes. "Keep doing that and they'll get stuck," the Doctor replied cheerfully.

"Yes, _mum_. Oh... look at that, he's got a rhino head. Interesting."

"Is that a Judoon? What are they? Why are they here?" Martha asked.

"They're like police. Wellll... police for hire, more like interplanetary thugs."

"And they brought us to the moon?"

"Neutral territory. According to Galactic Law, they've got no jurisdiction over the Earth. So they isolated us. That rain, and the lightning, that was them, using an H2O Scoop."

"Shouldn't be surprised there's a cosmic bureaucracy," Ianto muttered. "That means you were right, though," he nodded to Martha. "This building's been targeted for a reason."

"Okay, but, Galactic Law? Where d'you get that from?" They shifted around the glass panels, trying to keep out of sight. "If they're police and we're under arrest, are we... trespassing on the moon or something - no, wait, they brought us here."

"Yep. But I like that. Wish it were that simple. If they're making a catalogue, that means they're after something non-human." Ianto glanced at the Doctor and made a face. "Yeahhh... tell me 'bout it," the Doctor muttered back.

"What?" Martha whispered. "What's wrong?"

"They're after something non-human, makes it a bit awkward for me."

She frowned and hesitantly connected a few dots, almost smiling with disbelief. "Oh, you're kidding me." She glanced at both of them and their singular raised eyebrows. "Don't be ridiculous... " She faltered. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Come on." He stood up and moved off. Ianto shot her a sympathetic shrug.

Martha frowned. "They're not... actually after him, are they?"

"I should think not. If it turns out they are, he and I will be having words."

* * *

><p>Ianto and Martha pushed into the office where the Doctor was pulsing one of the computers.<p>

"They've reached the third floor."

"We'll need to move out in a few minutes," Ianto added.

"Right. Should have this before then..." The Doctor kept pulsing. Ianto nodded and kept an eye out through the doorway.

"What's that thing?" Martha asked.

"Sonic screwdriver," they replied in tandem.

She looked miffed. "Well, if you're not gonna answer me properly..."

"It really is! It's a screwdriver!" The Doctor held it up. "And it's... sonic. Look."

"What else have you got? Laser spanner?" She needled him.

"I did, but it was stolen by Emmeline Pankhurst, cheeky woman - what's wrong with this computer?" He smacked it in frustration. "The Judoon must have locked it down. Judoon platoon, upon the moon," he said heavily, rubbing his chin and running a hand through his hair. It stuck up all over the place, making him look like an irritated hedgehog as he went into motor-mouth rant mode. "Cause, we were just travelling past, I swear, just wandering, not looking for trouble, honestly." With his back still to them, Ianto allowed himself a smirk. "But I noticed plasma coils around the Hospital - like, that lightning, that's a plasma coil, it's been building up for two days now - so I checked us in, I thought something was going on inside. Turns out, the plasma coils were the Judoon, up above."

"But what are they looking for?"

"Something that looks human, but isn't." He typed furiously.

"Like you, apparently."

"Like me, but not me."

"Haven't they got a photo?"

"Might be a shape-changer."

"Well whatever it is, can't you just leave the Judoon to find it?"

"If they declare the hospital guilty of harbouring a fugitive... they'll sentence it to execution."

"All of us?"

"Oh yes. But if I can find this thing first... _OH!_" He smacked the screen again and Martha shot out of her skin. Ianto rolled his eyes as the ranting resumed at full volume. "D'you see? They're_ thick!_ Judoon are thick, they're so completely thick, they've wiped the records! Ooh, that's clever." He ran his hands through his hair again. If possible, it stuck up even more.

"What are we looking for?"

"I don't know, say, any patient admitted in the past week with unusual symptoms? Maybe there's a back-up..." He kept fiddling with the computer.

"Martha, your supervisor, Mr. Stoker, do you think he knows?" Ianto asked.

"That puffed-up old... ooh, actually, that's a good idea, Ianto," the Doctor said absently, peering at the circuits. Martha grinned.

"Yeah, it is. You keep working, we can go and ask Mr Stoker, he might know." They jogged a short ways down the hall to Mr. Stoker's office. When they pushed through the double doors, Martha saw the motorcyclists from earlier, black leather and helmet, at the same time that Ianto saw the legs sticking out from behind the desk. An elderly woman's head shot up like a prairie dog, eyes maniacal, holding a straw dribbling with blood.

"Kill them!" She screeched.

They burst out of the office and crashed into the Doctor, with the leather drones in pursuit. He grabbed them each by the hand.

"RUN!"

* * *

><p>The three of them flew down a flight of stairs, almost cornered being the leather drone and a patrol of Judoon. Then they entered a mercifully empty corridor, sprinting flat out. Ianto grabbed shelves and trolleys of equipment and hurled them into the path of the pursuing drone, trying to buy them more time. The Doctor pushed them into a room and sonicked the door closed, shoving them behind a glass partition.<p>

"When I say now, press the button!"

"But I dunno which one!" Martha protested.

"Find out!" He darted back towards the black and white camera as their pursuer hurled itself at the door. Martha fluttered frantically about the buttons, digging in the operator's manual and flipping feverishly through the pages. Ianto flicked his eyes about the space, observing the Doctor's actions and their surroundings. The Doctor pulsed the camera to make it more mobile and jammed the sonic into the device, aiming it at the door.

"You're not doing anything!" Martha yelled to Ianto.

"Well, he's not said 'now' yet." Ianto said decidedly. She had barely time to give him an incredulous look when the courier drone smashed the door off its hinges.

"NOW!" At the same moment, Ianto and Martha slammed their hands on a big yellow button. The X-ray camera flashed, silhouetting the Doctor's skeleton and the leather figure, which was solid. It juddered, twitched, and fell stiffly to the floor.  
>There was silence, until Ianto chuckled with relief.<p>

"Always the big threatening button, isn't it, Doctor?"

"Ohyes! Picking up fast, the two of you."

"What happened to it?" Martha asked, looking through the glass partition.

"Increased the radiation by 5000 percent. Killed 'im dead."

"But... isn't that gonna kill you?"

"Naahhhh. It's only Rontgen radiation. We used to play with Rontgen bricks in the nursery. It's safe for you to come out, I've absorbed it all." He twitched and shrugged his shoulders. "Now all I have to do is expel it. If I concentrate and shift the radiation out of my body and into one spot - say, my left shoe..." He started to shudder and hop in place in an odd little dance. "There we go, easy does it..." He hopped backwards on one foot, face contorted. "Oww! Ow ow _ow ow_ arghh itches _itches itches_ uuugnnnnn..." He yanked off his shoe and sock in one go and slammed it into a yellow waste bin. "Done!" Martha looked at him as though he'd turned into a technicolor bug-eyed fish right in front of her. Ianto rolled his eyes again, wondering vaguely when he'd had the chance to smooth his hair back into place.

"You're completely mad." Martha gazed at him, trying to figure out just how he existed.

"You're right," he said seriously. "I look daft in one shoe." He threw off the other converse and slammed it into the bin. "Barefoot on the moon!" He grinned and clicked his teeth shut. Martha continued staring. She looked to Ianto.

He shook his head. "Don't look so astounded, his ego doesn't need feeding for another hour."

She heeded him, shaking it off and turning to the still form. "So what's that thing, where's he from, the Planet Zovirax?"

"Just a Slab, they're called Slabs. Basic slave drones, d'you see..." The Doctor knelt down beside it and squeezed its arm. "Solid leather, all the way through. "

"Someone's got one hell of a fetish," Ianto said lightly as the Doctor stood and pulled his screwdriver from the camera.

"It was that woman, Ms. Finnegan." Martha looked between them, Ianto giving her his undivided attention as the Doctor stood up and grabbed the X-ray camera. "It was working for her. Just like a servant..."

"My sonic screwdriver..." the Doctor said plaintively.

"She was one of the patients, but -"

"No, no, my sonic screwdriver!" He stared at in in dismay, the end frazzled and melted.

"She had this straw, like some sort of vampire -"

"I LOVE my sonic screwdriver!"

"Doctor!"

"Sorry." He turned to face her, flinging it over his shoulder. It rolled away with a charming clink. He beamed. "You called me Doctor!"

"People do that, now focus," Ianto chastised him.

"Anyway!" Martha went on. "Ms. Finnegan is the alien, she was drinking Mr. Stoker's blood... what, what is it now?" Ianto was trying his best to hide a smirk.

"Nothing, it's nothing. It's..." He cleared his throat and composed himself. "Stoker, vampires, Dracula... moving on?"

The Doctor grinned at him. "Now look who's not focusing. Right. So, Ms. Finnegan. Funny time to take a snack, you'd think she'd be hiding, unless... No... Yea... That's it, wait a minute... YES!" He shouted out loud, making Martha jump again. "Shape-changer, internal shape-changer! She wasn't drinking blood, she was assimilating it -" Ianto stood back a pace. Martha was wearing the slightly dubious look that said both 'I'm listening' and 'I don't believe this.' Last time, it had been Donna with that expression and she had slapped the Doctor both times. "- if she can assimilate Mr Stoker's blood, she can mimic the biology. She'll register as human!"

"So if the Judoon find her..." Ianto continued.

"Precisely! Come on!"

* * *

><p>The three of them huddled in a door frame as the second Slab strode past them down the hall.<p>

"That's the thing about Slabs, they always travel in pairs," the Doctor murmured.

"What, like you two, then?" Martha whispered back.

"What d'you mean, like us two?"

"Couple of blokes in suits running around a hospital, solving mysteries, one of 'em's an alien, what's the story? Or are you both aliens? Is he your back-up or partner or something?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. True, he spent a lot of time trying to make himself seem invisible, but there were situations where it could certainly be irritating. "He's standing right next to you. And he resents the implication that he's the sidekick, be it an accurate assumption or otherwise." She gave him an apologetic glance as the Doctor sputtered a bit.

"Humans, honestly, we're stuck on the moon, running out of air, with Judoon and a blood-sucking criminal on the loose, and you're asking personal questions! Come on!"_  
><em>

"I like that, _humans,_" Martha sniffed. "Still not convinced you're an alien." They stood up and wheeled face-to-face with a scanner that had a Judoon on the other end.

"_Non-human,_" it grunted.

"Oh my god, you really are."

"And again!"

More running, more stairs, now spiced up a bit with blasts from the Judoon guns. They reached another hall and locked the stairway door.

"The Judoon are logical and just a little bit thick, they won't go back to check a floor they've checked already." While the Doctor was talking, Martha turned and knelt by Julia, who was helping a patient with an oxygen mask.

"How much oxygen have we got?"

"Not enough. We're gonna run out." The Doctor paced back to them.

"What 'bout you lot, you doing alright?" Martha grinned at him.

"Running on adrenaline."

"Welcome to my world."

"What about the Judoon?" Ianto asked.

"Great big lung reserves, won't slow 'em down, where's Mr. Stoker's office?"

"This way." Martha pointed. The Doctor led them slowly, padding stealthily into the office in his bare feet. The body of Mr. Stoker was left where it was, the face grey and ashen. There was no sign of Ms. Finnegan.

"She's gone, she was here!" Martha insisted.

"I didn't really think she'd stick around," Ianto pointed out. The Doctor knelt beside the body.

"Drained him dry. Every last drop. I was right, she's a Plasmavore."

"Garlic would be ineffective, then?" Ianto said dryly.

"Quite."

"But what's she doing on Earth?" Martha asked.

"Hiding. On the run. Like Ronald Biggs in Rio de Janeiro. But what's she doing now? She's still not safe, the Judoon could execute us all... come on!"

"Wait a minute," Martha said firmly. She bent down and closed Mr. Stoker's eyes. "Okay."


	8. Smith & Jones & Jones: Pt 3

**Erm... don't kill me? It's just a genetic transfer... it seemed like a good idea when I wrote it.**

* * *

><p>The Doctor started muttering to himself as they left the office.<p>

"Think think think. If I was a wanted Plasmavore, surrounded by police, what would I do?" Something caught his eye and he groaned. "She's as clever as I am. Almost." The was a crash and screaming down the hall as the Judoon burst onto their floor yelling "_Find the non-human! Execute!"_

"I need time, stay here, you've got to hold them up."

"How do we do that?" Martha asked.

"Well... I have an idea -" Ianto had already set off and was pulling trolleys into the path of the hall, trying to block them from view. "Right, okay, Martha, just, forgive me for this. It could save a thousand lives, and it means nothing, honestly, nothing." Ianto whipped around to see the Doctor put his hands on the side of her face and kiss her on the lips. He was about to intervene on her behalf, but when the Doctor pulled away she opened her eyes, looking a little dazed, and altogether quite pleased with this turn of events.

"That was nothing?" she whispered.

Ianto's eyebrows shot up to his hairline as the Doctor darted up, placed his palms on the sides of his head and kissed him as well. The first thought in Ianto's highly analytical mind was that the Time Lord's hands and lips, his overall body temperature, was slightly colder than that of a human. The second thought was that the Doctor was snogging him, and he had no idea why. The third berated him for being slow on the uptake, and he flailed one hand and made an ineffectual attempt to swat him away. The fourth thought was that there was presumably a plan or explanation. There had better be. The fifth was a wave of sympathy for their tagalong medic; considering the Doctor's tendency to put weird things in his mouth, god knows what he'd passed on to her. By the time these thoughts registered, the Doctor turned heel and scarpered, ignoring Ianto's expression of 'thoroughly not amused.' Ianto composed himself and looked at Martha. His sixth thought, he voiced out loud.

"Right. Clearly the lack of oxygen is making him more impulsive than usual."

She gave him yet another incredulous expression, then turned to stand in the doorway as the patrol approached. "Now listen, I know who you're looking for, she's this woman, she calls herself Florence..."

The Judoon captain held up his scanner. _"Human." _He grunted. The scanner blipped again. _"With non-human element."_ Ianto nearly intervened when the Judoon raised their guns, but the device kept blipping and their leader grunted again, _"Nonhuman element confirmed. Authorise full scan." _Martha was pushed back against the wall with the leader right up in her face, waving the device._"What are you? What are you?"_ Martha was tense, but she held herself steady. After a few minutes, the Judoon drew a black X on the back of her hand. _"Confirm: Human with traces of facial contact with non-human. Continue the search!"_ He handed Martha a sheet of paper. _"You will need this."_

"What for?"

"_Compensation." _He clomped down the hallways leaving Martha looking stunned. Ianto was treated with much the same drill, before being marked. He was left slightly shaken, but nonetheless unharmed, and found himself relieved that the impromptu snog was merely for the sake of spreading non-human DNA.

"I told you the Judoon were compensating for something," he smirked. "You alright?" Martha nodded. "Come on, we should follow them." The lack of oxygen was getting to them as they ran again, through the corridors. They burst into the MRI section. The Judoon had formed a semi-circle around Ms. Finnegan, the Slab, and... Ianto felt his heart stop. The Doctor was slumped on the floor, pale and prone. They tried to reach his side but the Judoon held them back.

_"Confirm: Deceased. Case closed."_

"But it was her, she did it, she murdered him!" Martha yelled desperately.

_"Judoon have no authority over human crime."_

"But she's not human!" they protested.

"Oh, but I am, surely, I've been catalogued." Ms. Finnegan held up the back of her hand.

"But she's a Plasmavore," Ianto strained to pull the words from his memory as he could feel the oxygen leaving his brain, " - an internal shape changer, she assimilated..."

"Wait a minute!" Martha blurted out. "She drank his blood, the Doctor's blood..." Ianto's eyes widened. He grabbed a scanner from the Judoon's holster.

"Catch!" Martha caught the scanner and held it out. It pulsed with blue light, before blipping.

"Oh, scan all you like, you - "

"_Non-human_."

"What?" For the first time, Ms. Finnegan looked alarmed.

"_Confirm analysis."_ All of the Judoon held out their devices and blue lights trailed over her face as she began to waver.

"But surely, I'm human, I'm as human as they come."

"He gave his life so they would find you," Martha whispered.

_"Confirm: Plasmavore! Charged with the crime of murdering the Child Princess of Padrivole Regency Nine - "_

"And she deserved it! Those pink cheeks and blonde curls, and that simpering voice, oh, she was begging for the bite of a Plasmavore!"

_"Then you confess?"_

"Confess? I'm proud of it! Slab, stop them!" The leather drone charged the Judoon, who held up their blasters and charred it to a crisp.

_"Verdict: Guilty. Sentence: Execution."_

Ms. Finnegan popped her head up from behind the glass partition. "Enjoy your victory, Judoon, because you're going to burn with me! Burn in Hellll -" Her voice rose to a scream as the blasters melted a hole into the glass and incinerated her. The Judoon lowered their guns as Martha slid between them and knelt next to the Doctor. Ianto leaned against the wall. He was becoming lightheaded.

_"Case closed."_

"But what did she mean, burn with me?" Martha protested. "The scanner shouldn't be doing that, she's done something." The Judoon captain turned and examined the MRI device.

_"Scans detect lethal acceleration of mono-magnetic pulse."_

"Well, do something, stop it!"

_"Our jurisdiction has ended. Judoon will evacuate."_

"What? But you can't just leave it! What's it gonna do?"

But the captain ignored her and spoke into a comm device. _"All units! Withdraw!"_ The Judoon clomped away. Martha followed them into the hall, yelling after them.

"You can't just go! That thing's gonna explode, and it's your fault!" Disoriented, Ianto crawled around the circuits, trying to figure out how to shut down the machine. His vision was blurring and the wires were going out of focus, but if nothing else he could try and cut the power. Martha knelt by the Doctor again, trying to administer CPR.

"Come on, come on!" She sat up and gasped, "Two hearts," and continued pumping his chest on both sides. The air was running thin, and with a deep gasp she tried to breathe life back into the Doctor. He inhaled, and she slumped to the floor next to him, muttering, "Scanner." Somewhere along the way, Ianto tried to crawl back to their side and collapsed. Eyes red and bloodshot, the Doctor struggled over to the wiring, reaching into his pocket.

"Ohh, sonic," he grimaced. Bolts of blue static coursed over every available source of exposed metal. Ianto felt a shock run through his fingers, jolting him out of a stupor. He pulled himself over to Martha, cradling her by the shoulders. On the other side of the partition, the Doctor grabbed for a handful of wires. "Red or blue, come on, come on... red!" He pulled the red sockets apart and the electricity died. Ianto smiled faintly as the Doctor returned to him and Martha. "C'mon, help me lift her." They staggered through the hallway, with the Doctor carrying Martha as Ianto struggled behind them, back to their ward. The Judoon ships were lifting off.  
>"C'mon c'mon c'mon, please, reverse it." The Doctor grinned as droplets of water spattered against the window. "Look, Joneses, it's raining on the moon."<p>

* * *

><p>Martha stared distantly as a relieved Tish babbled away. The two weary, strange men in suits were sloping off towards a blue box that stood innocuously in a little spot of grass. They turned and waved to her. Martha looked at Tish, and when she turned back, they and the box had faded away.<p>

* * *

><p>Ianto wasn't watching the row across the street. He could hear it well enough. He watched the Doctor with one eyebrow up as the alien slouched against the brick wall before smiling enigmatically and turning back into the alley. He could hear the tapping of Martha's boots across the cobblestones.<p>

She smiled at them as she approached. "I went to the moon today."

"Bit more peaceful than down 'ere," the Doctor drawled, leaning up against the TARDIS. He was wearing his longcoat and dark grey pinstripes instead of his blue suit, and Ianto had swapped out his blue dress shirt for a dusky purple. Martha closed the distance of the alley.

"You never even told me who you are."

"'M the Doctor," he said, as though it were entirely obvious.

"But what species? 's not every day I get to ask that."

"I'm a Time Lord."

"Riiiight. Not... pompous at all." Ianto chuckled at that, and she flicked her eyes to him. "And you're human. I saw them mark you." He nodded in reply.

"I just thought -" the Doctor reached into a pocket, " - since you saved my life and I've got a brand-new sonic screwdriver that needs testing, you might fancy a trip."

"What, into space?"

"Well..."

"But I can't. I've got exams, I've got things to do, I have to go into town first thing to pay the rent, I've got a family going mad..."

"If it helps, I can travel in time as well."

"Get out of 'ere," she said flatly.

"But I can."

"Come on, now, that's just going too far."

"I'll prove it. Two bilgesnipe with one hammer, anyway, I owe you an explanation. C'mon, Ianto."

"Do you remember what happened last time you tried to prove a point?" Ianto said lightly.

The Doctor looked defensive. "That was different. That species is known for its sore losers."

"So, they behead their rivals all the time. That is, the ones who don't run fast enough," he argued as he followed the Doctor into the TARDIS doors. Martha gaped at them as they stepped out, what to her was barely a moment later. The Doctor held up his tie, Ianto his stopwatch.

"Like so."

"Quite an exceptional man, Ben Franklin, I met him last week," Ianto said fondly as the Doctor put his tie back on. "Between him and the Doctor there was quite a case of spectacle envy."

"But... that was this morning. But... did you? Oh my god, you can travel in time!" Martha's eyes shone with delight. Ianto huffed at the Doctor's smug expression, but kept his thoughts to himself. "But hold on, if you could see me this morning, why didn't you tell me not to go into work?"

"Crossing into established events is strictly forbidden," he said seriously. "Except for cheap tricks."

"And that's your spaceship?" She stepped forward and ran a hand along the blue panels.

"It's called the TARDIS. Stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space."

"Your spaceship's made of wood." She peered around the sides. "Not much room, it'd be a bit... snug."

The Doctor swung the door open nonchalantly. "Take a look." He and Ianto followed Martha into the TARDIS, casually leaning against their spots on the rails. She stopped abruptly and ran back outside.

"No, no, no... but it's just a box..." Her footsteps tapped on the outside as she circled around the police box. The Doctor rubbed his eye with one finger, waiting for her to come back in. "But it's _huge!_" She poked her head round the door. "How does it do that? It's like a box with that room just... crammed in." She gazed up at the console as she passed the Doctor on the ramp. Ianto almost laughed out loud when he mimed her words behind her, "It's bigger on the inside."

"Is it? I hadn't noticed." The Doctor grabbed his coat and squeaked the door shut, tossing it into the crook of a pillar of coral.

"We've got a kitchen. And a cricket pitch." Ianto added. "Nearest bathroom's down the hall, left and left again, but knowing him, we'll be off and about in a moment or so-"

"Right you are! Ianto, close down the gravitic anomalyser!"

"That'll be the squiggly button, then?" He finished, positioning himself by one of the panels. Martha bent her head and peered at one of the devices. "We don't sniff the helmic regulator," Ianto said as though chastising a naughty puppy. She grinned sheepishly.

"So, are you his navigator or something?"

"As you aptly guessed earlier, I'm more like back-up," Ianto said ruefully. "He's had much more practice at saving the world, flying this thing and looking dashing in a coat." He caught the Time Lord's eye and half-glowered. "Not so much with the snogging, though, apparently."

The Doctor drew himself up. "That was a _genetic transfer._"

"That was workplace harassment," Ianto shot back. They started circling each other around the console with mock put-upon expressions, volleying banter back and forth like a tennis ball.

"The world was ending! I needed more time."

"And just when I thought the end of the world couldn't get any worse, you up and snogged me."

"It was just a DNA exchange! It can't have been that terrible!"

Ianto smirked. "Yes, it was, you're a rubbish kisser. "

"What?" The Doctor's voice shot up in pitch. "I am not! And that - that is totally beside the point! It wasn't a snog, it was a genetic transfer!"

"All the same, I'd rather you not try to demonstrate the difference. I don't need any more Martian germs."

The Doctor threw his hands in the air in frustration. _"I am not from Mars!"_

Ianto shook his head and clicked his tongue chidingly. "Temper, temper."

They both turned to look at Martha, who was watching the exchange with her mouth half open and a completely bemused expression. "Okay, you're going to have to spell this one out for me, 'cause it seemed like you spent half the time flirting, only the snogging's not actually a thing? And I can't really tell what the deal is here."

"Flirting?" the Doctor said dubiously. "Wait, wha -"

"I fail to see how our sadly juvenile bickering was interpreted as such." Ianto shrugged. "There is no 'deal', seeing as he... ah, doesn't quite float my boat for a variety of reasons. If it helps, you might consider me the Watson to his Sherlock Holmes"

Martha looked amused. "Not helping your case."

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind," Martha chuckled. "So, are you on board on a permanent basis?"

"I'm a victim of abduction," Ianto said in a stage whisper. "He's keeping me here because of the huon particles, you should run while you still can." Martha's eyes widened, seeing his perfectly serious expression and trying to work out whether or not they'd been playing a charade the whole time.

The Doctor snorted. "Oh, knock it off, that wasn't my fault. I don't abduct anybody! Well, never on purpose. Well, not in years, anyway. I pick people up from time to time, just to have someone around, an extra hand..." he chuckled. "Extra hand. But we go on adventures, find new planets, sneak into places we aren't allowed to see..."

"Get kidnapped, blow things up... it's rather fun," Ianto added. "He only keeps me around for the coffee, though."

"Oh, I knew there was a reason I put up with you. But yeah, seriously, you'd have to go twelve galaxies to find someone who makes better coffee than him. And I didn't even like coffee."

"Provided the right beans and equipment. I can't work miracles." Ianto glanced at Martha. "And I have to keep him on decaf, otherwise he's a nightmare. He'll _sing._"

"Oi!"

"Seussical the Musical. Even the TARDIS got snippy with him. " Ianto broke off and pondered for a moment. "We could go meet Sir Arthur, Doctor."

"Timelines. I've met him before... he won't be too happy to see me. Eugh, and after that thing with the Sumatran rats... No, I've got a better idea."

"Don't you always."

"Now who's being rude? Now! Most importantly. Pull the handbrake, Ianto. No, no... be quiet."

"I wasn't saying anything."

"Beginning of the earth. Huon particles. Yes you were."

"Fine, I was."

"Ready, Martha?"

"No!" she said, looking nonetheless excited.

"Off we go, then!"

* * *

><p><strong>I know there's a version of Sherlock Holmes out there that has Gareth David-Lloyd as Doctor Watson. I bet he was a fantastic Watson. I just wish that Steven Moffat could have picked him up and given him a role in <strong>**_his _****series of Sherlock. Not as Watson, mind, since Martin Freeman is spot-on as Watson, but it's such an amazingly ****_brilliant_**** series. Does anybody know if the movie is any good? I've been a bit leery of it because I love the Holmes canon and I've heard less than glowing reviews, (understatement) but I also adore GDL and I'm thinking about checking it out.**


	9. The Shakespeare Code: Pt 1

**Second Star to the Right: The Shakespeare Code, is hereby dedicated to Drake W. Loba, (btw I stole some of the wonderful quotes from your profile :) and to Medilia, who have been writing the most lovely reviews every chapter. I'm absolutely thrilled that you're all loving the story this much, thank you, everybody, so much for your reviews and encouragement. Hope these new chapters do not disappoint.**

* * *

><p>Ianto kept an arm hooked around one of the rails as the TARDIS jerked and jolted about. He had worked on adapting his balance and coordination to the rocking of the ship, and now he shifted in tune with it, watching Martha's delighted incredulity while the Doctor rotated a crank.<p>

"But, how do you travel in time? What makes it go?"

"Ooh, why don't we take the fun and mystery out of everything, Martha, you don't wanna know, it just does," he said irritably.

Ianto frowned, and called over the dull roar, "He means that now's not the best time. Or that he isn't supposed to give us puny mortals the secrets of time-travel. One of the two."

Martha giggled. "Really, though?"

"And, trying to explain the mechanics of how time-travel is accomplished to 21st century humans is like trying to teach a platypus to knit. I've tried both," the Doctor added proudly. He clung like a spider to the controls, with one foot up on the console. There was a tremendous jerk, and Martha was thrown to the floor as the Doctor bounced off a pillar, grabbing his coat.

"Blimey, d'you have to pass a test to fly this thing?" Martha asked as Ianto pulled her to her feet and brushed off his suit jacket.

"Yes, and I failed! Now -" The Doctor dropped Martha's red leather jacket into her hands. "Make the most of it, I've promised you one trip and one trip only. Outside this door..." He swiveled to face her. "Brave new world." She raised her eyebrows, grinning.

"Where are we?"

**"**Take a look." He swung the door open. "After you." They followed her out into a narrow medieval street, late at night but alive, lit with torches and bustling with people in tunics and hose and linen caps.

Martha stopped dead. "Oh, you are kidding me. You are _so_ kidding me. Oh, my God! We did it. We travelled in time. Where are we? No, sorry. I gotta get used to this whole new language. When are we?" A torrent of foul-smelling slop spilled from a bucket from an upstairs window, accompanied by a shout of "Mind the loo!"

The Doctor pulled them back against the TARDIS with a grimace. "Somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Sorry about that."

"I've seen worse. I've worked the late night shift at A&E." Ianto nodded approvingly to himself. She wasn't squeamish. Good for her. The Doctor started forward and she asked, "But are we safe? I mean, can we move around and stuff?"

He wheeled around. "Of course we can. Why do you ask?"

"It's like in the films," she said fervently, "you step on a butterfly; you change the future of the human race."

"Well, tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies. What have butterflies ever done to you?"

"What if, I dunno, what if I kill my grandfather?" Martha persisted.

"You planning to?"

"No."

"Well, then." The Doctor spun on his heel and kept walking. Martha looked as though she were about to press the matter, but Ianto shook his head.

"Sorry, he can be a bit... tactless. I think it's good that you've considered paradoxes, but if he's not worried, then I'll trust him to know what he's doing. Most of the time." She looked at him dubiously. "That and if he stops to lecture us about temporal mechanics, we'll be here all night and not do anything fun," he added.

"Fair enough. So this is London?" she asked, looking about.

"Elizabethan era, by the looks of it." Ianto glanced around, taking in the styles of clothing and the buildings.

"Ooh, very good. Right about... ooh, 1599," the Doctor continued, wondering, _t__actless?_

"Oh, but hold on." Martha stopped. "Am I all right? I'm not gonna get carted off as a slave, am I?"

"Why would they do that?" They both stared at the Doctor, waiting for him to catch on. "Am I being rude?" he asked in an undertone.

"Mostly a bit thick. It's _1599,_ Doctor -"

"- And I'm not exactly white, in case you haven't noticed," Martha said pointedly.

"I'm not even human."

"No, but people can't actually tell that, can they? She's right, it could be dangerous. Not to mention that we look terribly anachronistic," Ianto added. "It might help to at least find better clothes from the wardrobe?"

"Just walk about like you own the place, works for me," the Doctor said airily. Ianto looked vexed as he went on, "Besides, you'd be surprised. Elizabethan England, not so different from your time. Look over there." He pointed to a man shoveling manure into a bucket. "They've got recycling." He glanced at two blokes conversing over a barrel. "Water cooler moment." Then they were accosted by a clergyman orating at the corner.

"-_ and the world will be consumed by flame_!"

"Global warming!" he said brightly. Ianto smiled inwardly at the churchman's bafflement as they walked on. The Doctor bounded ahead and turned again, practically skipping with delight. "Oh, yes, and... entertainment! Popular entertainment for the masses. If I'm right, we're just down the river by Southwark right next to..." They darted around a corner and gazed at a great round white building. "Oh, yes! the Globe Theatre!"

"Oh, that's brilliant," Ianto whispered, and the Doctor beamed. Ianto was so cautious about new situations, and so _reserved_. The Doctor's mind wandered back to Rose, bouncing up and down in lively elation on the apple grass on New Earth... he shoved the memory aside. Martha's eyes were sparkling with wonder - now, there was a nice balance of prudent questions and appropriate enthusiasm.

"Brand new. Just opened. Through, strictly speaking, it's not a globe; it's a tetradecagon — 14 sides — containing..." He pivoted and grinned smugly. "The man himself."

"Whoa, you don't mean... is Shakespeare in there?" Martha's jaw dropped.

"Oh, yes. Miss Jones, will you accompany me to the theater?" He offered her Martha his arm. _That was more polite, wasn't it?_

She beamed and looped her own through it. "Yes, Mr. Smith, I will!"

"Mr. Jones?" Ianto shook himself out of his reverie, stared bemusedly at the Doctor, at the proffered elbow, back at the Doctor - and cuffed the side of his head. "Oi!" The Doctor used the same elbow to poke Ianto in the ribs, who sidestepped and nudged him back.

"Boys!" Martha laughed. "I don't want to miss the play!"

"When you get home, you can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare," the Doctor declared.

"Then I could get sectioned!"

* * *

><p>There was a full house and applause all around as the actors took their bows at the end of the performance.<p>

"That's amazing! Just amazing. It's worth putting up with the smell." Martha grinned as the figures in dresses caught her eye. "And those are men dressed as women, yeah?"

"London never changes." Ianto said glibly.

"Where's Shakespeare? I wanna see Shakespeare. Author! Author!" The Doctor looked at her. "Do people shout that? Do they shout "Author?" she asked a little sheepishly. The man behind her picked up the chant and it spread throughout the crowd.

"Well... they do now." From behind the actors, a man took center stage, a handsome man with twinkling blue eyes and thick golden-brown hair and full beard. He blew kisses to the audience, who cheered even louder.

"He's a bit different from his portraits," Martha remarked sidelong to them. Shakespeare bowed some more and clapped hands with the people in the front row.

"Genius. He's a genius - _the _genius," the Doctor babbled excitedly. "The most human human that's ever been. Now we're gonna hear him speak. Always, he chooses the best words. New, beautiful, brilliant words."

"Ah, shut your big fat mouths!" the man yelled, to the amusement of the groundlings in front.

_"_Oh, well." The Doctor's disappointment was evident.

"You should never meet your heroes." Martha muttered to him.

"You have excellent taste! I'll give you that." Shakespeare singled out a man in the audience. _"_Oh, that's a wig!"

"Picking on the poor soul in the front row?" The corners of Ianto's mouth twitched in a half smile. "Didn't know it went back this far."

"I know what you're all saying," Shakespeare continued. "'Loves Labour's Lost', that's a funny ending, isn't it? It just stops! Will the boys get the girls? Well, don't get your hose in a tangle, you'll find out soon." The audience as a whole gave a chorus of "_When?"_

"Yeah, yeah. All in good time. You don't rush a genius." He bowed, and then jerked back upright."When? Tomorrow night." The audience went wild again, as some of the actors gave each other odd looks. "The premiere of my brand new play. A sequel, no less, and I call it 'Loves Labour's Won'!"

* * *

><p>"I'm not an expert, but I've never heard of 'Loves Labour's Won,'" Martha said as they shuffled amongst the crowd through the doors of the theater.<p>

"There's a book list dating 1603 that includes The Merchant of Venice, The Taming of the Shrew, Love's Labor's Lost, and Love's Labor's won. So, according to rumour, such a play was published, but there's no records of a copy," Ianto said matter-of-factly. Martha stared at him.

"How d'you know that?"

"I know everything." She eyed him dubiously. "And I had an very enthusiastic English teacher."

The Doctor grinned at them. "He's right — the lost play. It doesn't exist — only in rumours. It's mentioned in lists of his plays but never ever turns up. No one knows why."

"Have you got a mini-disk or something?" Martha asked excitedly. "We could tape it. We can flog it. Sell it when we get home and make a mint. " The Doctor turned and looked at her.

"No."

"That would be bad," she acknowledged.

"Yeah. Yeah."

"How come it disappeared in the first place?"

"Well, I was just gonna give you a quick little trip in the TARDIS..." the Doctor looked a little reluctant, but finished, "but I suppose we could stay a bit longer." Martha beamed.

* * *

><p>They followed the Doctor up the cramped stairs of the invitingly warm tavern and he tapped cheerily at the open door.<p>

"Hello! Excuse me! I'm not interrupting, am I? Mr. Shakespeare, isn't it?" The playwright turned his head to the side, putting a hand to his forehead.

"Oh, no, no, no, no. Who let you in? No autographs. No, you can't have yourself sketched with me. And please don't ask where I get my ideas from. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove — " He broke off and caught sight of Martha, who was peering behind the Doctor's shoulder looking hopeful. "Hey, nonny _nonny_." He looked captivated. "Sit right down here next to me. You two get sewing on them costumes. Off you go." He dismissed the two actors sitting at his table. The landlady bustled into the room and ushered them out.

"Come on, lads. I think our William's found his new muse."

"Sweet lady." Barely registering the others' departures, Shakespeare's voice dripped with charm. "Such unusual clothes. So... fitted." Martha sat at the table, clearly flattered by the attention.

"Um, verily, forsooth, egads." The Doctor rolled his eyes as Ianto sat to his other side, impressed that she was able to string coherent words together, which was more than he felt capable of at the moment.

"No, no, don't do that," the Doctor muttered. He pulled the leather wallet from his pocket. "I'm Sir Doctor of TARDIS and these are my companions, Ianto Jones and Martha Jones."

"Interesting, that bit of paper. It's blank."

"Oh, that's..." The Doctor grinned. " - very clever. That proves it. Absolute genius." Ianto'd seen the Doctor pull the psychic paper trick a few times now. As a Torchwood employer, it had always looked blank to him, but not to anybody else.

"Mm." Shakespeare nodded, clearly used to it. He glanced at the paper again before surveying Ianto, who flushed but held his gaze before dipping his head in a polite nod.

"It's- truly an honor to meet you, sir."

The appraising look now turned coy. "The pleasure's mine, Ianto Jones. But tell me, seeing as you share a surname with this delightful lady, just how disappointed should I be?" Ianto and Martha exchanged glances.

"We're not a couple, if that's what you're asking." Martha assured him. "But what do you mean about the paper? It says so right there. Sir Doctor, Martha Jones, Ianto Jones."

"And I say it's blank," he insisted.

"Psychic paper," the Doctor began. "Um, long story -"

"Psychic," Shakespeare cut in. "Never heard that before and words are my trade. Who are you exactly? More's the point, who is your charming Welshman and your delicious blackamoor lady?" He rested his cheek on the side of his fist and gazed at Martha as she looked dumbfounded.

"What did you say?"

"Oops. Isn't that a word we use nowadays? An Ethiop girl? A swarth? A Queen of Afric..." Ianto and the Doctor glanced at each other, eyebrows raised.

"I can't believe I'm hearing this." Martha sputtered, almost amused.

"It's political correctness gone mad." The Doctor rubbed his eye with two fingers. "Um, Martha's from a far-off land. Freedonia."

"Excuse me! Hold hard a moment." A man dressed in ruffles and folds of fabric appeared in the doorway. "This is abominable behaviour. A new play with no warning? I demand to see a script, Mr Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed."

"Tomorrow morning, first thing, I'll send it 'round." Shakespeare assured him. A flurry of movement caught Ianto's eye and he saw the pretty tavern maid who had been sweeping, staring at the ranting man, Lynley. Her name was Lilith, she had spoken to them downstairs when they had arrived.

"I don't work to your schedule, you work to mine. The script, now!"

"I can't."

"Then tomorrow's performance is cancelled." The maid slipped out of the room behind him.

"It's all go, 'round here, isn't it?" Martha remarked.

"I'm returning to my office for a banning order. If it's the last thing I do, 'Love's Labours Won' will never be played." He stormed from the room and they heard him clatter down the stairs and out of the tavern. After a few minutes, Martha took a sip from the tankard of ale on the table.

"Well, then... mystery solved. That's 'Love's Labours Won' over and done with. Thought it might be something more, you know... more mysterious."

"Well, you talk like that and fate won't be able to resist," Ianto said pointedly. From outside the tavern, there was the sound of gagging, then a woman screamed. He cocked an eyebrow. "Just like that."

* * *

><p>The four of them dashed out of the pub into the courtyard. The man that had just stormed out was in the open, water gushing from his mouth.<p>

"It's that Lynley bloke."

"What's wrong with him? Leave it to me — I'm a doctor." The Doctor rushed to his side.

"So am I – near enough." Martha followed. Ianto stayed off to the sidelines. Martha would be the most help in a medical situation; he'd only get in the way. He flicked his eyes about, glancing for anything that might be out of place. His eyes snapped back as Lynley gave a great jerk, and collapsed to the ground. Martha was calling out to him, "Gotta get the heart going. Mr Lynley, c'mon, can you hear me? You're gonna be all right." She moved to perform resuscitation, but more water gushed from his mouth as he lay there. _"_What the hell is that?" The Doctor dashed back to her side. Ianto looked up as the maid from earlier was watching them from over the balcony.

"His lungs are full of water — he drowned and then... I dunno, like a blow to the heart, an invisible blow." He stood up and addressed the landlady. "Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural, if unfortunate demise. Call a constable and have him taken away."

"Yes, sir."

The maid appeared at the landlady's side. "I'll do it, ma'am." Ianto watched her walk off before kneeling next to the Doctor and Martha.

"And why are you telling them that?" Martha asked.

"This lot still have got one foot in the Dark Ages. If I tell them the truth, they'll panic and think it was witchcraft," the Doctor explained in an undertone.

"Okay, what was it then?"

"Witchcraft."

* * *

><p>"I got you a room, Sir Doctor," the landlady said softly. "You and Mister and Miss Jones are just across the landing."<p>

"Poor Lynley. So many strange events," Shakespeare mused. "Not least of all, this land of Freedonia, where a woman can be a doctor?"

"Where a woman can do what she likes," Martha said coolly.

"And you, Sir Doctor. How can a man so young have eyes so old?"

"I do a lot of reading." The Doctor kept his expression closed, his mind walled off.

"A trite reply. Yeah, that's what I'd do." A corner of the Doctor's mouth twitched in a light smirk.

_"_And Martha, you look at him like you're surprised he exists. He's as much of a puzzle to you as he is to me." She looked between them, also impassive. "And possibly to you," he indicated Ianto, "though that's difficult to tell since you watch everything and try to make yourself unseen."

"That and the Doctor does quite enough showing off for the both of us," Ianto replied wryly. The playwright's scrutiny made him feel a bit uneasy. The comment was given in the spirit of jest, and received as such, as the Doctor wriggled his nose at him with mock petulance.

"He does indeed, to make people look at only what he wants them to see, like any gifted actor. Now, if you'll pardon me, I must to work. I have a play to complete. But I'll get my answers tomorrow, Doctor, and I'll discover more about you and why this constant performance of yours."

"All the world's a stage," the Doctor shrugged.

"Hm, I might use that. Good night, Doctor."

"Nighty-night, Shakespeare," the Doctor said heavily. "C'mon kids. Time for bed."


	10. The Shakespeare Code: Pt 2

Ianto had perched himself on the window ledge behind the bench, gazing out into the night. Martha held a candle to one of the cupboards, turning to the Doctor as he came in.

"So, um, who's going where? There's three of us and only two beds."

"We'll manage," the Doctor said lightly, flopping down on one of the narrow pallets.

"Traditionally, travellers and pilgrims in this era shared rooms and beds. I'd offer you first pick, but the Doctor seems to have taken that upon himself," Ianto said with a half-smile.

"But what about you?"

He shrugged in response. "You can have the other. I'll be fine. And if I get tired, I'll shove him off, he always says he needs less sleep than humans." She looked at him doubtfully, but he gestured to the second bed. "I insist, m'lady."

"If you're sure..." she trailed off and sat on the bed, propped upright so she could see both of them. "So, magic and stuff. That's a surprise. It's a little bit 'Harry Potter.'"

The Doctor grinned and rolled over. "Wait till you read Book Seven. Ohh, I cried."

She sat up to tug off her boots and remove her earrings. "But is it real, though? I mean, witches, black magic and all that, it's real?"

"'Course it isn't!" he said disparagingly.

"Well, how am I supposed to know?" Martha said defensively. "I've only just started believing in time travel. Give me a break."

"Besides, you've told me that magic did exist once," Ianto pointed out. "During the Dark Times, yes?"

"Wellll, yeah, sort of, but that was more... ugh, complicated. No, there's something I'm missing. Something really close, staring me right in the face and I can't see it. Rose would know. Right now, she'd say exactly the right thing..."

Martha looked dejected, and Ianto shot the Doctor a withering look. "I would think not, if this is how you always explain things. You've given us nothing to work with."

"Like I said, it's complicated!"

"Take your time, then," Martha said coolly. "We'll wait."

He sat up at their mutually displeased expressions, and sighed. "Well, it's like... oh!" He brightened. "Okay, Clarke's Law, d'you know Clarke's Law?"

Martha nodded. "I think... that's the one where something that looks like magic is actually advanced technology?"

"Basically, yes! The thing is, the universe didn't always follow the laws of science as we know them. And, by the way, that's a hell of a secret and I'm not remotely allowed to tell that." He grinned.

Martha's eyes widened. "Are you going to get in trouble for it?"

His face fell. "No. No, I won't. But! Anyway! There are eras of time, there are worlds, even completely different universes that happen to operate in ways that completely defy our understanding." As he spoke, he began to weave and shape the air with his hands, staring through them as though he could part a curtain in the universe and reveal all the stars and secrets. "And when impossible things, anomalies and miracles and moments of bright chaos happen, we call them magic. But the fact is... magic is a word that people use when they can't explain how something works. And I have always believed that no matter how extraordinary something is, there will always be an explanation, no matter how bizarre or improbable." He looked back to see them both rapt with attention, and concluded brightly, "Which is why this looks like witchcraft, but it isn't."

"Wow," Martha whispered. Then she grinned cheekily. "You're completely wrong, by the way."

"Oh, am I?"

"Oh, yeah. About what you said earlier. Explanations don't take away the fun and the mystery, I reckon understanding something makes it even more fascinating."

The Doctor cocked his head and looked at her intently. "What d'you think, Ianto, is she a Ravenclaw?"

"Oh, certainly. So do you think we're looking for beings that don't operate according to our laws of science?"

"Quite possibly, though what they're doing in the here and now is beyond me."

Ianto shrugged. "Maybe they time traveled too."

"Maybe. And there's such a thing as psychic energy, which looks and smells like what we saw, but a human couldn't channel it like that. Not without a generator the size of Taunton and I think we'd have spotted that."

"Then they're not human," Martha said, warming to the subject.

"Fair point. Now, I know it's been a very exciting day but I do think you two should try and get some sleep." Martha nodded, pulling her hair out of its tie. Ianto didn't budge, and the Doctor frowned. "You going to sit on that window all night?" he said irritably.

"That's the idea."

The Doctor shrugged at him. "Well, suit yourself." He flipped over and blew out the candle, and the room went dark.

Mostly dark, in any case. The moon was full and the night breeze was ghosting through the open window where Ianto was brooding. Martha had taken a while to finally drift off - exciting new experiences and strange places could do that, but Ianto was still in the window and trying to hold off sleep as long as possible. Humans, though, they couldn't keep going like that: they got cranky, then they laughed at every little thing, or they cried, or stumbled about in a drunken stupor, and eventually just collapsed, and they couldn't have that, now, could they?

"Right," the Doctor murmured, and pushed himself off the cot. "Bed, sleep, now. No 'buts'."

Ianto gave him a petulant look but slid off the windowsill. He paused, seeing Martha stir and shiver a bit, her back and shoulders covered in goosebumps. He retrieved the Doctor's coat from the corner and spread it over her before trudging to the other cot.

The Doctor took his place at the window, staring out across the courtyard. They weren't the only ones whiling the night away. Shakespeare's window was lit, the playwright burning the midnight oil to finish his work, a masterpiece that would somehow slip through the fingers of history, lost to myth and rumor. Ianto had succumbed to sleep almost immediately, eyes now twitching behind their lids.

_Machines were grinding, the clash and scrape of steel knives, the heavy stomping, the screams. Monotone voices of those they once knew, now dead to their friends, and dragging them towards the same fate, a monster in a metal cage. So much blood, the air thick with the coppery taint. Those who couldn't be converted were left in piles, failed heaps of blood and metal. Lisa, crushed against the metal arms of a cyberman, dragged to a conversion unit and strapped down. Ianto was suffocating from heat and smoke, hidden in the ventilation shaft, helpless, while Lisa was screaming and the knives were descending..._

A scream, loud and real, rent the air, and for a heart-clenching moment Ianto thought he was still in the midst of his dream. He gave a hoarse yell, rolling off the low bed and launching himself to his feet, blindly following the Doctor, who was already running. Martha followed a second later, still in socks, and they raced across the landings towards Shakespeare's rooms. They burst through the door. The playwright's head shot up at the noise, having slumped across the pages on his desk. The landlady, Dolley Bailey, was lying on the floor, dead. The Doctor knelt beside her. Ianto and Martha ran to the window to see a silhouette across the full moon, a witch on a broomstick, cackling away. Ianto blinked to make sure his eyes were working properly.

"Her heart gave out. She died of fright," the Doctor said, confounded.

"Doctor?" He flitted to their side at the window.

"What did you see?" Martha looked at him, torn between disbelief and 'I told you so.'

"A witch."

* * *

><p>Dawn was breaking when he returned and the three travelers found themselves back in Shakespeare's rooms. The playwright paced back from the window to his chair.<p>

"Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey. She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place. We all ran like rats. But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit."

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light," the Doctor sighed.

"Do not go gentle into that good night," Ianto hummed in reply.

Shakespeare looked intrigued. "I might use that."

"You can't. It's someone else's."

"But the thing is, Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly died of fright and they were both connected to you," Martha thought out loud.

"You're accusing me?"

"No," she said quickly, "but I saw a witch, big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches." He frowned.

"I have? When was that?"

Ianto nudged her. "Not quite yet."

"Peter Streete spoke of witches," Shakespeare murmured.

"Who's Peter Streete?"

"Our builder. He sketched the plans to the Globe."

"The architect." The Doctor looked up, getting a nod in confirmation. "Hold on. The archite - The _architect!" _he yelled. Ianto didn't even twitch, even as the others started. "The Globe! Come on!"

* * *

><p>The Doctor stood in the groundling's pit while Martha, Ianto and Shakespeare stood onstage<strong>.<strong>

"The columns there, right. 14 sides. I've always wondered but I never asked... tell me, Will, why 14 sides?"

"It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all." He shrugged. "Said it carried the sound well."

"Why does that ring a bell? 14…"

"There are 14 lines in a sonnet," Martha offered.

"So there are. Good point. Words and shapes following the same design." The Doctor paced back and forth in the dust, rambling to himself. "14 lines, 14 sides, 14 facets…Oh, my head. Tetradecagon... think, think, think! Words, letters, numbers, lines!"

"This is just a theatre," Shakespeare said.

"Oh, but a theatre's magic, isn't it? You should know," he said excitedly, coming to lean his elbows against the stage. "Stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis a the right time... Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy, change them." Ianto drifted forward, fascinated. "You can change people's minds just with words in this place. And if you exaggerate that..."

"It's like your police box," Martha added. "Small wooden box with all that POWER inside."

"Ooh -" Ianto shot her an admiring glance as the Doctor grinned.

"Oh. Oh, Martha Jones, I like you. Tell you what, though. Peter Streete would know. Can I talk to him?"

"You won't get an answer," Shakespeare replied. "A month after finishing this place... lost his mind."

"Why? What happened?"

"Started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling. His mind was addled."

"Where is he now? "

"Bedlam. "

"What's Bedlam?"

"Bethlem Hospital. The madhouse."

"We're gonna go there," the Doctor announced. "Right now. Come on."

"Looks like we're getting that visit to psychiatric after all," Ianto sighed. Martha giggled as they followed the Doctor out of the theater.

"Wait!" Shakespeare called. "I'm coming with you. I want to witness this at first hand!" He hailed one the actors as they strode in. "Ralph! The last scene as promised. Copy it, hand it round. Learn it. Speak it. Back before curtain up. Remember, kid, project. Eyes and teeth. You never know — the Queen might turn up." He strode through the gateway and said in an undertone, "As if. She never does."

Shakespeare caught up and kept pace with Martha. Ianto timed his own pace to stay just ahead to keep sight of the Doctor, and still hear them chatting behind him.

"So, tell me of Freedonia, where women can be doctors, writers, actors."

"This country's ruled by a woman," Martha shot back.

"Ah, she's royal. That's God's business. Though you are a royal beauty."

Ianto waited for them to catch up. "I know for a fact you've got a wife in the country," he said firmly, amusement ringing through his voice.

"But Ianto, this is Town," Shakespeare replied impishly, his hand brushing Ianto's sleeve. Ianto's eyebrows shot up, but he allowed himself a grin while the Doctor doubled back to them, looking peevish.

"Come on! We can all have a good flirt later."

The playwright eyed the Time Lord appreciatively. "Is that a promise, Doctor?"

This stopped him in his tracks for a moment. "Ooh, 57 academics just punched the air. Now move!"

* * *

><p>Ianto shadowed Martha as they trailed into the dungeons of Bethlehem. It was dark, lit with torches, and stank of rot and fear.<p>

"Does my lord Doctor wish some entertainment while he waits?" the burly jailer asked. "I can whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for ya. Bandog and Bedlam!"

"No, I don't!" the Doctor snapped.

The warden shrugged. "Wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the lady." He rapped on the outer bars of a cell as he passed. Ianto flinched, and hoped no one would notice, but the Doctor's fierce dark eyes caught his gaze and held it, and he gave a small, reassuring nod. Slightly bolstered, Ianto concentrated on Martha's indignant words.

"So this is what you call a hospital, yeah? Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry? And you put your friend in here?"

"Oh, and it's all so different in Freedonia," Shakespeare scoffed.

"But you're clever!" Martha argued. "Do you honestly think this place is any good?"

"I've been mad. I've lost my mind," he replied darkly. "Fear of this place set me right again. It serves its purpose."

"Mad in what way?"

"You lost your son," the Doctor said softly.

"My only boy. The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there."

"I didn't know. I'm sorry," Martha murmured.

"It made me question everything," he went on. "The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be... oh -" His eyes widened. "That's quite good."

"You should write that down," the Doctor remarked offhandedly.

"Hm, maybe not. A bit pretentious?"

"Mm." He made a noncommittal shrug.

_"_This way, m'lord!" The warden called from the end of the hallway. They followed slowly in single file and entered one of the dank cells, where a man in rags was hunched over, shivering.

"They can be dangerous, m'lord," the jailer blustered. "Don't know their own strength."

The Doctor rounded on him. "I think it helps if you don't whip them! Now get out!" He glanced at Ianto, half expecting a customary telling-off for being rude, but he received only a weak nod of approval. The jailer huffed and left the cell, and Ianto tensed when the metal door creaked shut. The Doctor gave his shoulder a brief squeeze before he approached the architect as one would an injured animal.

"Peter? Peter Streete?"

"He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him," Shakespeare said levelly.

"Peter." The Doctor laid a hand on the man's shoulder and his head shot up with wild, pale eyes. He gently placed his fingertips on the side of Peter's head. "Peter, I'm the Doctor. Go into the past, one year ago. Let your mind go back, back to when everything was fine and shining. Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story. A winter's tale. Let go. Listen. That's it, just let go." Peter gently slumped to lay on his side on his cot. "Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches."

"Witches spoke to Peter," the man mumbled wildly. "In the night, they whispered." His breathing was shallow and he made little hissing noises, scrabbling his fingers around his ear. "Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. THEIR design! The 14 walls — always 14. When the work was done..." He laughed, shakily, maniacally. " - They sapped poor Peter's wits."

"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city?" The man gasped as though he was about to let slip. The Doctor dropped to kneel beside him, eyes wide, on tenterhooks for answers. _"_Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me where were they?"

"All Hallows Street," he gasped.

"Too many words." A wizened figure in a black cloak materialized beside the Doctor, who leaped to his feet and propelled himself to stand next to the others.

"What the hell?" Martha blurted out.

"Just one touch of the heart," she hissed, laying a finger to Peter's chest.

"_Noooo!" _The Doctor yelled, starting forward... but it was too late, Peter gasped and breathed his last.

"Witch! I'm seeing a witch!" Shakespeare seemed more shocked by this than Peter's sudden demise.

"Who would be next, hmm?" she crowed, waving her fingers about. "Just one touch. Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals." The Doctor stared at her with a dark, stricken expression. Ianto positioned himself in front of Martha, who was clutching Shakespeare's arm. She let go and rattled the door, screaming, "Let us out! Let us _out!"_

"Well, that's no good, the whole building's shouting that," Ianto pointed out, voice dark with fear.

"Who will die first, hmm?"

"Well, if you're looking for volunteers," the Doctor said casually, stepping forward. Ianto watched him suspiciously. He most likely had a plan, but he wouldn't have put it past him to be stupidly heroic.

"No! Don't!" Martha yelled.

"Doctor, can you stop her?" Shakespeare said uncertainly.

"No mortal has power over me."

"Oh, but there's a power in words." The Doctor saw her falter. "If I can find the right one — if I can just know you..."

"None on Earth has knowledge of us."

"Then it's a good thing I'm here. Now, think, think, think... Joneses, what do we know about them?"

Ianto tore his eyes away from Peter's dead body. "Erm, humanoid... female, uses shapes and words to channel energy, influenced the design of the globe to 14, can apparently fly on broomsticks..." The Doctor cut him off.

"AH! 14! That's it! 14! The 14 stars of the Rexel planetary configuration! Creature, I name you Carrionite!" The crowlike hag gave a great shriek and faded away in a stream of gold.

"What did you do?" Martha asked.

"I named her. The power of a name. That's old magic-k." His eyes gleamed, and he clicked the 'c' on the end. Martha and Ianto both gave him a look, and he shrugged. "Fine, fine, different sort of science. You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. The Carrionites use words instead. They speak something into action, I don't know, maybe an effect of the rhythm and vibrations on a quantum level?" he mulled out loud, running fingers through his hair. "In such a way that it would influence people around them, or stationary objects like that broom."

"But those are just little pieces of the puzzle," Martha said. "What are they really using the words for?"

The Doctor gazed at them intently. "The end of the world."


	11. The Shakespeare Code: Pt 3

**Drake W. Loba, thanks for the tips and encouragement about writer's block!**

**As far as your question about Ianto being a bit novice-like, here are my thoughts on why I chose to write him the way I did. He's been very blase about the Doctor's habits and the situations they end up in, but he's basically acting like an old hand when he's only been a companion for a week and a half. At the moment he really is a novice, and the flippancy is only part of his mask while he's still trying to come to terms with everything. Now, t**he wiki said he was a researcher at TW1, and beyond that I don't really know what all he did, so you may be right in that he'd have some knowledge of different aliens. That said, reading about something in files is very different from actually experiencing it, and the Doctor is basically showing him that Torchwood had everything wrong when it came to life on other planets. Hope this helps clear things up; it made since in my head.****

**Thoughts, reviews and comments are always appreciated. Understatement, they're as addicting as Ianto's coffee.**

* * *

><p>Back in Shakespeare's lodgings, the Doctor was pacing again, and lecturing, again.<p>

"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe. Nobody was sure if they were real or legend."

"Well, I'm going for real," Shakespeare commented.

"But what do they want?" Martha asked.

"A new empire on Earth. A world of bones and blood and witchcraft."

"Perpetual Halloween," Ianto said calmly. "Sounds like fun. But how?"

"I'm looking at the man with the words," the Doctor said pointedly at Shakespeare.

"Me? But I've done nothing."

"Hold on, though." Martha followed the Doctor's gaze. "What were you doing last night, when that Carrionite was in the room?"

"Finishing the play." All three of them stared.

"What happens on the last page?"

"The boys get the girls. They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual — except those last few lines." His eyes widened a bit. "Funny thing is... I don't actually remember writing them."

"That's it. They used you," the Doctor breathed. "They gave you the final words. Like a spell, like a code. 'Love's Labours Won' — it's a weapon!" His eyes took on the maniacal gleam. Ianto knew they'd be running again soon. "The right combination of words, spoken at the right place with the shape of the Globe as an energy converter! The play's the thing!" he finished triumphantly, before spinning around. "And yes, you can have that."

The four of them pored over a map of the surrounding area.

"All Hallows Street. There it is. Martha, Ianto, we'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play!"

"I'll do it." Shakespeare smiled and shook the Doctor's hand. "All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing."

"Mind the ego," Ianto muttered under his breath.

"Oh, don't complain," Martha said out loud.

"I'm not. It's marvellous. Good luck, Doctor."

"Good luck, Shakespeare." The three of them ran for the door and the Doctor called out, "Once more unto the breach!"

"I like that! Wait a minute... that's one of mine." The Doctor poked his head back round the door.

"Oh, just shift!"

* * *

><p>"All Hallows Street, but which house?" the Doctor thought aloud as they ran through yet another alleyway towards their destination.<p>

"The thing is, though... am I missing something here?" Martha protested as he gazed around the street. "The world didn't end in 1599. It just didn't. Look at me and Ianto — living proof."

"Oh, how to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux? I know! 'Back to the Future'! It's like 'Back to the Future'!"

"The film?" she clarified.

"No, the novelisation," he said acidly. "Yes, the film. Marty McFly goes back and changes history."

"And he starts fading away," she continued, then looked alarmed. "Oh my God, we're gonna fade?"

"You and the entire future of the human race." Gone was the irritation. Now he was intent and severe. "It ends right now in 1599 if we don't stop it. But which house?" A horse whinnied off to the right and a door creaked open. "Ah, make that _witch_house." Martha gave the Doctor a look that said 'are you serious?' Ianto offered her a light smile.

"End of the human race one moment, bad puns the next, he certainly does know how to keep you on your toes." Martha shook her head resignedly and they followed him into the house. The interior was all very appropriate, Ianto thought. Flickering candles, a cauldron perched over a pile of wood, cobwebs on the walls and what looked like dead rats hanging from racks. He wasn't terribly surprised to see the pretty maid, Lilith, from the inn, watching their approach. The Doctor looked unperturbed.

"I take it we're expected."

"Oh, I think Death has been waiting for you a very long time," Lilith said coolly. Martha stepped forward confidently.

"Right then, it's my turn. I know how to do this." Martha pointed at her."I name thee, Carrionite!" Lilith gasped, but then gave a little snicker, unaffected. "What did I do wrong? Was it the finger?"

"The power of a name works only once. Observe. I gaze upon this bag of bones and now I name thee Martha Jones."

Ianto choked hoarsely and caught Martha as she fell to the ground. "What have you done?" he growled.

"Only sleeping, alas." He breathed a sigh of relief as she continued. "Curious, the name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time." The Doctor helped Ianto lower Martha to the wooden floor, and the Welshman stood forward, glaring daggers at her.

"I name thee, Lilith," he retaliated, his accent thick and husky with anger.

The Carrionite looked almost pleased. "Such a clever, clever boy. And yet her fate shall be your own, now join in slumber, Ianto Jones." Ianto staggered, dazed, slumping next to Martha. The words had had even less impact on him than Martha, thanks to his training with mental barriers, but it still felt like a physical blow. "And as for you, Sir Doctor!" Lilith pointed at him, then froze. "Fascinating. There is no name. Why would a man hide his title in such despair?" The Doctor stared at her, still kneeling beside Martha and Ianto. "Oh, but look," she said silkily. "There's still one word with the power that aches."

"The naming won't work on me," the Doctor snarled.

"But your heart grows cold. The north wind blows and carries down the distant... Rose."

"Oh, big mistake." He rose to full height and advanced. "'Cause that name keeps me fighting! The Carrionites vanished! Where did you go?" he demanded.

"The Eternals found the right word to banish us into deep darkness," she said haughtily, spinning around and stalking a few paces away.

"And how did you escape?"

"New words. New, glittering, from a mind like no other."

"Shakespeare."

Her eyes flicked to an image floating in the bubbling cauldron. "His son perished. The grief of a genius. Grief without measure. Madness enough to allow us entrance."

"How many of you?"

"Just the three. But the play tonight shall restore the rest. Then the human race will be purged as pestilence. And from this world we will lead the universe back to the old ways of blood and magic."

"Hmm... busy schedule," he said casually, stepping towards her. "But first you gotta get past me."

"Oh, that should be a pleasure," she purred. "Considering my enemy has such a handsome shape." She grazed her cheek against his jaw and twirled her fingers in his hair. He stood there, unruffled.

"Now, that's one form of magic that's definitely not gonna work on me."

"Oh, we'll see." A soft click, and she scampered away with a lock of hair between her fingers.

"What did you do?"

"Souvenir." She waved the snippet of hair tauntingly.

"Well, give it back!" He started forward, but she spread her arms and cloak. The windows burst open and she soared backwards, suspended out of reach. "Well, that's just cheating."

"Behold, Doctor. Men to Carrionites are nothing but... puppets." She yanked a makeshift doll from under her cloak and wrapped the hair around it.

"Now, you might call that magic... I'd call that a DNA replication module." Ianto stirred and tried to shift himself out of his frozen daze. He rolled slowly onto his knees, trying not to attract notice, whilst nudging Martha awake. The Carrionite's attentions remained on the Doctor.

"What use is your science now?" She pierced the doll with a needle, and flew into the night, cackling. The Doctor gave a ragged cry and fell to the ground. Martha was on her feet in an instant, rushing to his side. Ianto pulled himself after her.

"Oh my God! Doctor! Don't worry, I've got you." Martha rolled him onto his back and pressed an ear to his chest. "Hold on, mister. Two hearts?"

"You're making a habit of this," he said blithely, trying to launch himself to his feet, only to give another strangled yell, stumbling as Martha and Ianto caught him on each side. "I've only got one heart working. How do you people cope?" His face was twisted into a pained grimace. "I've got to get the other one started. Hit me! Hit me on the chest!" Ianto obliged, thumping him firmly. He yelled, and protested, "Other side!" Martha hit him on her side. "Ow! On the back! On the back!" He slumped forward and Martha hit him again."Left a bit! Ahh, lovely!" He stood straight, bones cracking. Ianto grinned in relief. "There we go! Ba-da-boom!" He barely spared them a glance. "Well, what are you standing there for? Come on! The Globe!"

They ran. As usual. Until, as one, Ianto and Martha skidded to a halt.

"The map -"

"Yeah. We're going the wrong way!" Martha yelled ahead.

"No, we're not!" the Doctor insisted, pressing on.

"Aren't we?" Martha faltered, looking to Ianto, who stopped in the middle of the street and pulled out his stopwatch. Precisely eight seconds later, the tan coat flapped like a great pair of wings back in his direction, accompanied by a yell of "We're going the wrong way!"

A cyclone of red smoke swirled above the Globe Theater as people ran, vacating the streets. The priest that had accosted them earlier shouted in a mad triumph, "I told thee so! I told thee!"

"Stage door!" the Doctor shouted, and the three of them ran for the Globe. They skittered through the back hall and burst into the antechamber where Shakespeare was slouched and only just coming into consciousness.

"Stop the play! I think that was it. Yeah, I said, "Stop the play"! the Doctor berated him.

"I hit my head," he mumbled.

"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald." There was a crash and more screaming. "I think that's my cue!" Martha and Ianto grabbed Shakespeare by each arm and pulled him out on stage after the Doctor.

"Right in the thick of things," Ianto muttered to himself. The theater was a scene of chaos, gusts of wind scattering pages everywhere, and the audience pounding on the doors to be let out. Red lightening flashed and ragged cloaked figures swarmed in a spiral. "Look, Martha! Dementors." She shot him an incredulous look. The Doctor grabbed Shakespeare's arm.

"Come on, Will! History needs you!"

"But what can I do?"

"Reverse it!" he yelled over the wind.

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"The shape of the Globe gives words power, but you're the wordsmith, the one true genius. The only man clever enough to do it!"

"But what words? I have none ready!"

"You're William Shakespeare!" he shouted irascibly.

"But these Carrionite phrases, they need such precision!"

"Trust yourself. When you're locked away in your room, the words just come, don't they? Like magic. Words of the right sound, the right shape, the right rhythm — words that last forever! That's what you do, Will! You choose perfect words. Do it. Improvise!" The Doctor took a step back, and Shakespeare took center stage, and spoke in ringing tones.

"Close up this den of hateful, dire decay! Decomposition of your witches' plot! You thieve my brains, consider me your toy. My doting Doctor tells me I am not! Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points..." He trailed off and glanced at the Doctor, who prompted him, "7-6-1-3-9-0!"

"7-6-1-3-9-0! Vanish like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee..." He looked at the Doctor again, but the alien hesitated, at a loss. He stuttered, and looked to Martha.

"Expelliarmus!" she blurted out.

"Expelliarmus!" Shakespeare roared.

"Good old JK!" the Doctor yelled delightedly. The Carrionites screamed and wailed as the tempest spun ever faster, drawing pages and pages of the script into its midst, imploding upon itself and vanishing into a blink. "Love's Labours Won. There it goes." The audience breathed a collective sigh of relief and a hesitated clapping began somewhere in their midst. It grew to cheers, more and more thunderous.

"They think it was all special effects," Martha gasped when she caught her breath.

"Your effect is special indeed," Shakespeare said warmly.

She shook her head. "It's not your best line."

The Doctor ducked offstage and Shakespeare took Ianto and Martha by the hands, and they joined the actors in taking a bow. The show was over.

* * *

><p>"And I say, a heart for a hart and a dear for a deer." Ianto slipped through the walkway of the Globe, journal in hand, watching with amusement as Martha and the great playwright sat in the middle of the stage, flirting and swapping puns.<p>

"I don't get it."

"Then give me a joke from Freedonia."

"OK, Shakespeare walks into a pub and the landlord says 'oi, mate, you're bard.'"

He chuckled delightedly. "It's brilliant! Doesn't make sense, mind you, but never mind that. Come here." He wrapped an arm around her waist and leaned in.

She stiffened a bit, just slightly perplexed. "I've only just met you."

"The Doctor might never kiss you. Why not entertain a man who will?"

She started to lean in, but twitched back a bit and sighed. "I don't know how to tell you this, oh great genius, but your breath doesn't half stink." He looked a bit rueful and Ianto decided now was as good a time as any to make his presence known.

"Personally, I think you're passing up an opportunity to snog one of the greatest minds in history... but perhaps that's just me?" Martha jumped at his voice. He gave her an encouraging nod and a wink.

She bit her lip and smiled. "Well, when you put it like that..."

"Alas, she only loves me for my fame and genius," Shakespeare sighed exaggeratedly, and she giggled.

"Oh, I think we know that's not true. There's still your modesty to consider." He laughed heartily, and when she leaned in he planted a smacking kiss on her lips. She put a hand on his cheek and kissed him back. Ianto smiled and faded back to slouch up against the far wall as the Doctor came striding up to meet them, wearing a ruff and holding a large animal skull.

"Oi! Really, you two? I leave you alone for five minutes..." They broke apart from their enthusiastic snog at his voice, both looking decidedly unapologetic. "Good props store back there! I'm not sure about this, though...Reminds me of a Sycorax."

"Sycorax. Nice word. I'll have that off you as well."

"I should be on 10%. How's your head?"

"Still aching."

"Here, I got you this." He pulled off the white ruff and fastened it around the playwright's collar as Ianto sidled up to join them. Shakespeare looked surprised for a moment, while Martha smiled shrewdly and helped adjust it. "Neck brace. Wear that for a few days till it's better, although, you might wanna keep it. It suits you."

"I was wondering if there might be an exception to the 'no autographs' statement," Ianto said hopefully, holding his journal, together with a quill and ink he'd borrowed from a back room. Shakespeare's eyes danced as he took the quill.

"I'd be delighted to make an exception for you, Mr. Jones." He poised the quill over the page, took on a thoughtful look, and wrote swiftly.

"What about the play?" Martha asked.

"Gone. I looked all over — every single copy of 'Love's Labours' Won went up in the sky."

"My lost masterpiece."

"You could write it up again," Martha suggested.

"Yeah, better not, Will," the Doctor said quickly. "There's still power in those words. Maybe it should best stay forgotten."

"Oh, but I've got new ideas." A faraway look came into his eyes. "Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons. In memory of my boy — my precious Hamnet."

"Hamnet?" Ianto repeated curiously.

"That's him."

"Ham-NET?" Martha said again.

"What's wrong with that?"

"Anyway, time we were off," the Doctor cut in. "I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot can scream for all eternity -" Ianto frowned at him. "- and we've gotta take Martha back to Freedonia."

"You mean travel on through time and space," Shakespeare declared. Ianto's eyebrows raised to his hairline, and dropped again just as quickly.

"You what?" The Doctor looked at him warily.

"You're from another world, like the Carrionites and Martha is from the future. And Ianto is from the same future, only he's from Wales. It's not hard to work out."

"That's... incredible. You are incredible."

"We're alike in many ways, Doctor. Martha, Ianto let me say goodbye to you in a new verse. A sonnet for my Dark Lady, and my Fair Youth." He pressed the journal into Ianto's hand and clasped their hands on each side. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" The Doctor's jaw dropped and he rubbed his eye with his finger, practically gobsmacked. Ianto's own eyes widened, and Martha mirrored the look as he continued, "Thou art more lovely and more temperate—" He was cut off as two of the actors dashed into the pit

"Will! Will! You'll never believe it! She's here! She's turned up!" they called. Ianto and Martha took advantage of the distraction to swap starry-eyed looks with each other.

"We're the talk of the town. She heard about last night! She wants us to perform it again."

"Who?"

"Her Majesty! She's here!" Trumpets blared a fanfare as a resplendently dressed woman entered the Globe.

"Queen Eiizabeth I!" the Doctor nearly squealed with glee.

"Doctor!" she hissed.

"What?"

"My sworn enemy!"

"What?" the Doctor squawked.

"Oh, for god's sake, what did you do this time?" Ianto grumbled affectionately. He turned to say goodbye while he still had a moment. "It's been an honor."

The Bard winked at him. "The pleasure was all mine."

"Off with his head!" Her Majesty ordered.

"Whaaat?"

Martha was already standing. "Never mind 'what', just run! See you, Will! And thanks!"

"Stop that pernicious Doctor!" The Queen and her guards gave chase as Shakespeare laughed merrily.

"What have you done to upset her?" Martha yelled as they peeled through the streets, back to the TARDIS.

"How should I know? Haven't even met her yet. That's time travel for you!" The TARDIS doors squeaked open and Martha and Ianto pushed past him, intent on getting away from the archers with their longbows and clothyard shafts. "Still, can't wait to find out. That's something to look forward to. Ooh!" He slammed the door closed as an arrow imbedded itself in the door, and they were off again.

* * *

><p>The Doctor grinned when he ducked into the console room, flicking the controls to dematerialize as Martha and Ianto both looked a little dazed and ecstatic.<p>

"Did that just happen? Did we just... Shakespeare's sonnets?"

"We're Shakespeare's bloody muses!" Martha squealed. "Oh, my god, I _kissed_ him! I just snogged William Shakespeare!" She threw her arms around the Doctor's neck. "Thank you, so much, this was absolutely brilliant!" He laughed and lifted her clear off her feet. Ianto staggered into the console seat, staring at the pages of the journal.

She dropped next to him. "Come on, then, let's have a proper look."

Ianto read out loud in a cool, clear voice,

_Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?_

_Thou art more lovely and more temperate:_

_Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,_

_And summer's lease hath all too short a date,_

_Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,_

_And often is his gold complexion dimmed,_

_And every fair from fair sometime declines,_

_By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed._

_But thy eternal summer shall not fade,_

_Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,_

_Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,_

_When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st._

_So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,_

_So long lives this, and this gives life to thee._

The Bard's signature was at the bottom. "Best. Autograph. Ever," Ianto declared.

"Right, then, Martha Jones..." They both looked up at the Doctor. "One trip, I said one trip in the TARDIS and then home." Martha nodded quietly. Ianto cocked his head to the side and raised one eyebrow, flicking his eyes towards her, than back to the Doctor's. The Doctor hesitated, glancing between the two of them, gave a brief affectionate eyeroll and continued, "Although, I suppose we could stretch the definition. Try one trip to the past, and one trip to the future. How d'you fancy that?"

Martha beamed. "No complaints from me!"

Ianto smiled placidly. "I'll make coffee."


	12. Gridlock: Pt 1

**Oh, it's so good to be home. ****Drake W. Loba, your reviews have become the highlight of my week. And t****hank you everybody who took the time to review, your encouragement is really appreciated. I'm making good progress with Evolution of the Daleks and am already planning ahead for stuff in Utopia and beyond. Ooh... Utopia and Beyond... sounds catchy. (Just as a little teaser; I've got something in mind for Voyage of the Damned that involves that scene from Something Borrowed, the way we all would rather have seen it.) Long ways off, but some of this stuff I couldn't wait to write. Annnnywho... Gridlock, part 1! It will be somewhat shortened, but I'm sure those of you who can't wait to see the Face of Boe will likely not be complaining too much.**

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><p>Ianto reappeared in the console room with two mugs of coffee and a third mug with a pale green concoction, handing that one to the Doctor, who sniffed it experimentally.<p>

"Ianto." Ianto looked up innocently.

"Hmm?"

"That doesn't look like your coffee."

"That's because it's not coffee."

"What is it, then?"

"Tea. I'm not familiar with its planet of origin, but it's quite lovely." The Doctor just stared at him. Ianto sighed. "I'm _not_ giving you coffee, Doctor."

"You were serious about that?" he said bemusedly.

"No complaining unless it's not up to standard." He handed another mug to Martha. "The last time I gave him coffee, I was forced to chase him down and eventually locked him in the room with paper on the walls and a hundred-pack of crayons."

"I'm 907, not four and a half," the Doctor said testily. Ianto ignored him.

"Actually, he made some lovely work, but seeing as we're off elsewhere, that's the last thing we need to be dealing with." Martha giggled and took a sip. Her eyes widened and she sank back into the seat.

"Blimey, that's... you weren't kidding about this being the best in twelve galaxies." Ianto flushed.

"Technically speaking, there's no coffee in five of those... Anyways, where are we headed next?"

"Martha! How 'bout a different planet?" Her face lit up.

"Can we go to yours?" The Doctor's grin slid away and he darted to the other side of the console, covering the moment blithely.

"Ahh, there's plenty of other places." Ianto winced slightly, but Martha was undeterred.

"Come on, though? Planet of the Time Lords, that has to be worth a look. What's it like?"

"Well... 's beautiful, yeah."

"Is it like, outer space cities, all spires and stuff?" Martha went on enthusiastically.

"S'pose it is."

"Great big temples and cathedrals?"

"Yeah." Ianto could see the dark look, the same one he got when asked about Rose. But even he was curious about the Doctor's home, that he said was far away and long since gone.

"Lots of planets in the sky?" Martha pressed, oblivious to the tension in the Doctor's posture.

"The sky's a burnt orange," he said softly. "With the Citadel enclosed in a mighty glass dome, shining under the twin suns." Ianto leaned in, enthralled. "Beyond that, the mountains go on forever – slopes of deep red grass, capped with snow."

"Can we go there?" Martha whispered. He looked back up and the moment was broken.

"Naaahh. Where's the fun for me? I don't wanna go home! Instead..." He danced around the console, mashing buttons and tweaking settings. "This is much better! Year five billion and fifty-three, planet New Earth! Second hope of mankind! Fifty thousand light years from your old world, and we're slap bang in the middle of New New York." He yanked his coat off the pillar and shrugged it on, talking at the speed of light as Ianto and Martha dashed after him to the doors. "Although, technically it's the fifteenth New York from the original, so it's New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New York. One of the most dazzling cities ever built." He pushed them out the doors, smack into pouring rain.

"Oh, that's nice," Martha said bitterly, hunching her shoulders against the deluge. Ianto shook his hair out like a wet dog, pulling the arrow from the doors and stowing it inside. "Time Lord version of dazzling."

"Nah, bit of rain never hurt anyone. Come on, let's get undercover." Already they were running; not the frantic pounding for their lives, but the light dashing meant only for getting one somewhere faster. The city streets were deserted, there was only rubbish bins and old laundry flapping on lines like sodden and depressed ghosts, and green boxes set into the walls.

"Looks like same old Earth to me. On a Wednesday afternoon," Martha complained.

"Looks like where I grew up in Cardiff," Ianto added.

"Hold on, hold on, let's have a look." The Doctor hustled over to a dead screen on the wall and buzzed it profusely. It flickered to life, a sickly green color, showing a honey-blonde woman doing a news report.

"_ - and the driving should be clear and easy, with fifteen extra lanes open for the New New Jersey expressway." _The screen flicked to a spired city with sleek flying cars zooming across a river.

"Oh, that's more like it, that's what we had last time, this must be the lower levels. Down in the base of the tower, some sort of under-city."

"You've brought us to the slums." Martha's tone was irritated, but she was smiling anyway, mostly just ribbing him. Ianto smiled, standing in the rain in the middle of the alley.

"Much more interesting!" the Doctor insisted. "It's all cocktails and glitter up there, this is the real city." The screen went dead and they turned away.

"You'd enjoy anything." She said warmly.

"That's me! Oh, the rain's stopping. Better and better!" As they were catching up to him, Ianto heard Martha ask, "When you say last time, was that... you and Rose?"

"Um. Yeah, yeah it was." His casualty sounded almost convincing.

"Nothing." She was fairly convincing herself. "Just didn't know if you made a habit of bringing people to the same places, is all."

Ianto jumped as the top half of one of the green boxes flipped up to reveal a man at a vendor's cart, who began babbling a sales pitch. Another panel flipped up, and another, and another, and the vendors all began shouting at once.

"Customers! Customers! We've got customers!"

"Happy, Happy, lovely happy Happy!"

"Anger! Buy some Anger!"

"Get some Mellow, makes you feel all bendy and soft all day long!"

"Younger, them. They'll rip you off. Do you want some happy?" Ianto shook his head and gave them a dark look as he and Martha stepped closer to the Doctor.

"Are they selling drugs?" she asked suspiciously.

"I think they're selling moods," the Doctor muttered darkly.

"Same thing, isn't it?" Ianto pointed off to the side. "Doctor, look." A pale woman in a dark shawl with a hood over her head was approaching the stalls, drawing more cries from the vendors.

"What can I get ya, m'luv?"

"I want to buy some Forget."

"I have Forget, darlin'. What strength? How much you want forgettin'?" The Doctor stalked up, watching the exchange intently.

"It's my mother and father... they went on the motorway."

"Aw, that's so sad. Try this." She held out a little disc. "Forget 43. That's twopence." The pale woman turned away and they could see her eyes: though she was young, they were dazed and haunted looking.

"Stop, wait. Hold on." the Doctor said firmly. "What happened to your parents?"

"They drove off," she said flatly. He looked perplexed.

"But... not - they might drive back again?"

"Everyone goes to the motorway in the end." Her voice was soft and whispery. "I've lost them."

"But they can't have gone far, you could find them." She gave a sort of despairing shrug and placed the token on her neck.

"No, no, don't!" The Doctor slumped as it was too late. Her expression changed into a sort of dazed smile.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Your parents. Your mother and father, they went on the motorway?" he prodded gently.

"Did they? That's nice. I'm sorry, I won't keep you." Ianto and Martha exchanged disturbed glances. They turned to watch the woman fade away into the misty alley.

"So that's the human race, five billion years in the future." Martha said bitterly. "Off their heads with chemicals." Ianto turned back to her, but his reply was lost on his tongue.

"Martha!" She gave a yelp as a man looped an arm around her and dragged her backwards, yelling "I'm sorry, I'm really really sorry, but we only need three." Ianto launched himself forward, but a woman appeared from behind them and pressed a gun at him. His eyes dilated and he put his hands up, his mouth curled into a snarl. She swung the gun back and forth between him and the Doctor, who was yelling desperately, "No, let her go! I'm warning you, let her go! Whatever you want, I can help. All of us, we can help. But first you've got to let her go!" They shuffled back with Martha through a door that led out of the alley. Ianto pounded on the door yelling in frustrated Welsh. The sonic buzzed and they wrenched the door open, tearing off down a dim and cluttered hallway. They thundered out of a door at the end of a hall onto an outside stairwell. A black and silver van with no wheels wheezed into life and hovered off the ground, zooming away out of the alley. Ianto cursed again, kicking the door vehemently and running his hands through his short damp curls, staring at their surroundings.

"What do we do now?" he said hoarsely. The Doctor stared out, his own eyes wide and swirling with dark power.

"We get some answers."

* * *

><p>They pounded back through the corridor to the alleyway with the drug vendors. The Doctor pounded furiously on one of the green windows, which flipped up obligingly to reveal the woman who had sold the Forget drug to the pale girl.<p>

"Allo, luv, thought you'd come back. Want some happy happy?" The Doctor was seething, and Ianto stood behind him with a cold glare, back under control but equally threatening.

"Those people, who were they, where did they take her?" the Time Lord demanded. Another booth opened behind them, revealing the 'happy happy' man.

"They've taken her to the motorway," the other vendor informed them calmly.

"Looked like carjackers to me," the first lady offered.

"I'd give up now, darlings. You won't see her again," a third added. Ianto rounded on her.

"Believe me, we'll stop at nothing." His stomach was clenching painfully, a sick, apprehensive twist in his gut. They were supposed to be looking after her. If something bad had happened...

"Used to be thriving, this place," the man said wistfully. "You couldn't move. But they all go to the motorway in the end."

"He kept saying three, we need three, what did he mean, three?" the Doctor spat.

"It's the car sharing policy, to save fuel. You get special access if you have three adults."

"How do we get to the motorway?" Ianto demanded.

"Straight down the alley, keep going to the end. You can't miss it." They spun on their heels into the fog. "Tell you what –" the lady called back, " - how 'bout some happy Happy? Then you'll be smiling, my love!" The Doctor whirled around again, eyes piercing.

"Word of advice, all of you. Cash up. Close down. And pack your bags."

"Why's that, then?"

"Because as soon as I've found her, alive and well," his voice was low and menacing, " - and I will find her, alive and well – then I'm coming back. And this street is closing. Tonight!"

They sonicked through another heavy, locked door, emerging in a cavernous tunnel, thick with choking green smoke, hover-cars stalled in place as far as the eye could see. Farther, as with the smoke, one couldn't see much. They were standing on a loading dock witnessing the worst traffic jam in the universe. They both started coughing uncontrollably. One of the vehicle doors shifted open and a figure with goggles and a scarf wound around his face stuck his head out and yelled to them.

"Hey! You daft little street struts! What are you doing, standing there? Either get out or get in! Come on!" Ianto glanced at the Doctor and shrugged. They bounded down the dock and into the car. Ianto registered a cramped compartment, before his eyes watered and he kept hacking uncontrollably. "Never seen the like." Their rescuer's rich accent rumbled.

"Here." A woman's voice, followed by two oxygen masks. He and the Doctor strapped them to their faces gratefully.

"Just standing there, breathing it in!" The stranger pulled off his scarf and goggles. Ianto's eyebrows raised for one moment, startled, before he slipped back into composure. Their rescuer was a cat.

"There's this story says back in the old days, on Junction Forty-Seven," the cat-man continued, "this woman stood in the exhaust fumes for a solid twenty minutes. By the time they found her, her head had swollen to fifty feet!"

"Oh, you're making it up." The woman grouched good-naturedly. She had dark curly hair and friendly eyes.

"A fifty foot head! Just think of it! Imagine picking that nose," he kept on.

"Oh, stop it, that's disgusting."

"What, did you never pick your nose?" He ribbed back. But she sat up straight, the banter forgotten.

"Bran, we're moving."

"Right, then. I'm on it." He shoved a lever to the floor and they shifted forward. Horns beeped on the outside and the engines wheezed. They halted quite abruptly.

"Twenty yards! We're having a good day." He turned to the two truant travellers, who were pulling off the oxygen masks. "And who might you gentlemen be, then? Pretty well dressed for hitchhikers."

"Sorry, I'm the Doctor, and this is Ianto Jones."

"Medical man, eh? My name's Thomas Kinkade Brannigan and this is the bane of my life, the lovely Valerie."

"Nice to meet you." She smiled softly at them.

"And that's the rest of the family behind you." The Doctor looked round and shifted the curtain open. On a shelf behind it was a basket full of mewing kittens.

"Awww, that's nice." The Doctor reached over gently, cooing, and picked one of them up. Puzzlement and enchantment warred with each other for a moment, before the latter won out and Ianto picked up a kitten as well, beaming as it nestled into him and started purring. He had always been fond of cats. "How old are they?"

"Just two months." Valerie gave another lovely smile, tickling the black kitten's ears.

"Poor little souls. Never known the ground beneath their paws." The Doctor looked puzzled. "Children of the Motorway." He said as though it was obvious.

"What, they were born in here?" Valerie nodded.

"We couldn't stop. We heard there were jobs going, out in the laundries on Fire Island. Thought we'd take a chance."

"What? You've been driving for two months?" The Doctor's befuddled look stayed in place.

"Do I look like a teenager?" Brannigan scoffed. "We've been driving for twelve years now." Ianto blinked.

"Come again?"

"Yeah! Started out as newlyweds! Feels like yesterday."

"Feels like twelve years to me," Valerie shot back.

"Ahh, sweetheart, but you're still lovely." He leaned over and tickled her and she giggled.

"Twelve years? How far did you come? Where did you start?"

"Bentley Park. It's five miles back."

"You travelled five miles in _twelve years?_" He and Ianto traded dumbfounded looks as Brannigan looked at Valerie and remarked, "I think he's a bit slow."

"I think I'll never complain about Friday night London traffic again." Ianto muttered to himself, reluctantly returning the kitten to its siblings.

"London? Wait, where are you two from?" Valerie asked.

"Never mind, long story," the Doctor brushed it off, "we've got to get out of here, our friend is in one of these cars, she's been taken hostage. We should get back to the alley."

"Can we find her with the TARDIS?" Ianto asked as the Doctor hauled the door open, hacking into coughs again.

"You're a bit late for that, we've passed the lay-by. You're a passenger, now, Sonny-Jim."

"When's the next lay-by?" Ianto asked calmly.

"Ohh... six months."


	13. Gridlock: Pt 2

**Sorry this chapter's a bit short. I got impatient and cut some dialogue, and it doesn't deviate much from the episode. Ianto rolls his eyes some more. Final chapter is long and I hope it'll make up for it.**

**On a random note, Drake W. Loba, your comment about a Best Behavior drug still has me grinning like an idiot.**

**On another random note, I think Ianto would definitely be a kitty person. And there's some utterly adorable pictures on dA that have exhibited this in the most literal sense. :) **

**Oh, and I haz an icon now; little chibis of Ten and Martha and Yan for the Smith and Jones chapters, feel free to take a peek on my profile.**

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><p>The Time Lord was getting restless and stroppy. After three hours stuck in the cramped car, Ianto couldn't help but sympathize. He'd stayed quietly in the back with the kittens as the Doctor tried to get in touch with the police, then with the Cassini ladies, who'd helped them identify the car that held Martha. Then he tried to persuade Brannigan to follow the car, and their drivers hinted of a hidden terror below the levels and levels of traffic. Then it became clear of the other fear, the one everyone felt, and could never speak of, that the Doctor was forcing them to confront. The despair, the hopelessness, that there was nothing and nobody out there to get them out, that they'd be trapped in the bowels of New New Earth forever. Then the hymns started, and Ianto realized that was nearly all that kept them going. He picked up one of the kittens again, humming a bit into her soft fur, as the purring calmed him, easing the clenching sickness in his stomach.<p>

"Sounds a bit like a song my Nan used to sing when I was a kid," he mumbled. "Can't be the same, though... not after five billion years. Still... it's quite something." The Doctor smiled at him reassuringly, before setting his face in resolve.

"If you can't take us, we'll go down on our own." He scrambled to the middle of the car and pulled the screwdriver out, pulsing it and shifting aside a panel in the floor.

"We?" Ianto said dryly. The Doctor gazed up at him, and Ianto cocked an eyebrow. "Of course I'm following you," he chided gently, "I just prefer to do my own volunteering."

"What d'you think you're doing?" Brannigan asked, confounded.

"Finding my own way. I usually do." The Doctor perched himself over the open panel, shrugging off his coat and tossing it to them. "Look after the coat. I love that coat. Janis Joplin gave me the coat."

"But you can't jump!" Valerie protested.

"Valerie, if it's any consolation, I'm having kittens right now." Ianto rolled his eyes affectionately.

"This Martha," Brannigan said pointedly, "she must mean an awful lot to you." Ianto watched the Doctor shrewdly.

"Barely know her," the Doctor whispered. There was guilt in his expressive eyes. "Was too busy showing off. And I lied to her. Couldn't help it, just lied." And just like that, the bravado was back. "Bye then!" He dropped through the shaft, and Ianto crouched beside it.

"Well, at least he's being honest about lying." He gave his hosts a last look. "Thank you. And for what it's worth, I've known Martha for all of two days, and I know she's worth saving."

"You're gonna follow him, just like that?" Ianto didn't smile, but his eyes gleamed recklessly. No more sitting around in apprehension. Time for some action.

"Someone's got to watch him while he's showing off." He gave them a last nod of farewell, and dropped to the car beside the Doctor, hearing their last exchange.

"They're completely insane."

"That, and a bit magnificent."

The timing of the entire operation was terribly dodgy. Several times, Ianto nearly panicked, thinking that he'd lost track of the Doctor, and with no sonic screwdriver he might have been at a loss, stranded in the choking green smog on top of a floating car. Mostly, he followed the Time Lord blindly, losing himself in the momentum of jumping and trying not to think about anything else. His knees ached with the impact and his feet and wrists were killing him. And in spite of himself, he was enjoying every second. He crouched on the roof of the car on the lowest level. The smog rumbled and roiled with scraping snarls, and he felt a jolt of relief upon finally hearing the Doctor's voice.

"Is this the last layer?"

"We're right at the bottom," the driver, a businessman in a bowler hat confirmed, "Nothing below us but the fast lane."

"Can't we drive down there?"

"There's only two of us, we need three to go down." The Doctor shrugged.

"'S alright, I've got a friend coming in a moment. Alright, Yan?" Ianto dropped into the car, flushed and wheezing. The gentleman in the bowler hat still held a slightly alarmed look, but offered him a cup of water, which he accepted with no small semblance of relief. The Doctor was in all haste to go below, but Ianto cut him off with a sharp hand movement, finally getting his breath back.

"Doctor, there's something down there, in the fast lane. I don't know what we're dealing with, but I don't like it."

The Doctor nodded and flipped open the panel. The murk and gloom was thicker than a stew, with pinpricks of light beaming from a distance. A thunderous screeching reverberated below.

"That what you're talking about?" Ianto rolled his eyes.

"Absolutely. Pretty lights should always be approached with the utmost of caution." The Doctor gave him a childish look before turning to the businessman.

"Any idea what that noise is from?"

"I try not to think about it," the driver said faintly.

"What are those lights? What's down there?" He coughed from the smoke and waved it away from his face. "I just need to see..." He bounced up to the display screen, sonicking it with a fervor. "There must be some sort of ventilation. If I could just transmit a pulse through this thing, maybe I could trip the system, give us a bit of a breeze!" It took all of a few minutes to rewire the system, and the fog began to clear. "That's it! Might shift the fumes a bit, give us a good look." They knelt by the panel and through the swirling of the smog, they could see the snapping claws of massive crabs.

"What the hell are they?" the businessman whispered.

"Not very friendly, by the looks of it."

"Macra" the Doctor said darkly.

"So we're not going down there, then?"

"We may very well have to. Hang on, I need to think." _History lesson time,_ Ianto thought. "The Macra used to be the scourge of this galaxy."

"Gas. They fed off gas, the filthier the better. They built up a small empire using humans as slaves and mining gas for food."

"They don't exactly look like empire-builders to me," the business man frowned.

"Well, that was billions of years ago. Billions. They must've devolved down the years and now they're just beasts. But they're still hungry and our friend's down there." The top of the car clanked and they shot to their feet.

"It's like New Time's Square in here, for goodness sake!" A pair of feet, followed by a torso in long robes dropped into the car.

"I've invented a sport!" the Doctor grinned. A cat person in a nun's habit stood before him.

"Doctor, you're a hard man to find."

"No guns in my car," the businessman insisted, pointing at her blinking green weapon.

"I only brought this in case of pirates. Doctor, you need to come with me." He frowned.

"Do I know you?"

"You haven't aged at all," she said in a soft, raspy voice. "Time has been less kind to me."

"Novice Hame!" he said delightedly, wrapping her in a hug before jumping back. "No, hold on, get off. Last time we met, you were breeding humans for experimentation." Ianto cocked his head, more at the Time Lord's abrupt mood whiplash. Breeding humans for experimentation? Well, that could happen just about anywhere.

"I've sought forgiveness, Doctor, for so many years, under his guidance. And if you come with me, I might finally be able to redeem myself."

"I'm not going anywhere," he growled. "You've got Macra living underneath this city. Macra! And if my friend's still alive, she's stuck down there!"

"You've got to come with me right now!"

"No, no, no, we've got enough people and more for the fast lane, we've got to find Martha."

"I'm sorry, Doctor. But the situation is even worse than you can imagine." Ianto glimpsed a green bracelet blinking on her wrist. He darted to the Doctor's side and clenched his hand around one arm as the cat-nun grasped his other, ordering firmly, "Transport."

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare!" the Doctor protested. The world squeezed around them, compressing in a solid white light and an electric hum, and Ianto felt the oddest sensation of himself disappearing.


	14. Gridlock: Pt 3

**There is an attempt at Welsh in this; I mostly found a few sentences off the internet, and apologize for any incorrectness. And I'd offer you a translation, but I hope you find the meaning is pretty apparent.**

**Possible tissue warning. I kept breaking down every time I came back to edit.**

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><p>Ianto grunted and peeled himself off the floor, smacking the side of his head with the heel of his hand, as though trying to rid his ears of water. His eyes registered a dusty room, dark, with splotches of sunlight streaming through, but he was too disoriented to see much else. "Is this what Apparating feels like?"<p>

A few feet away, the Doctor mumbled, "Rough transport." He jumped to his feet and glared at the cat-nun. "And you can go straight back down and teleport people out, starting with Martha."

"I only have the power for one trip," Novice Hame said stiffly.

"Then get some more!" he snarled. "Where are we?"

"High above, in the over-city."

"Good! 'Cause you can tell the Senate of New New York I'd like a word. They've got thousands of people trapped on the motorway! Millions!" The Doctor was practically spitting with ire, which ironically kept Ianto calm. It was when he became distant and tranquil, with no emotion in his voice and the power of the stars behind his eyes, that was when it was time to rein him in. Raging and snapping was easy enough to handle.

"But you're inside the Senate. Right now." Novice Hame pressed the bracelet. It flickered green again and the room was illuminated to reveal a cavernous, ramped ceiling and rows and rows of benches in a set of stands. A thick shaft of sunlight cut through the center and lit the sides, that were filled with rickety skeletons.

"They died, Doctor. The city died." Ianto shuffled over to the Doctor's side, shuddering slightly as they approached the middle platform, where a skeleton was sprawled willy-nilly. The shaky green lighting, the wires, the plastic sheeting strewn about, was doing nothing to help his nerves. Ianto breathed deeply, trying to relax. The Doctor had stopped bristling and was now quietly disturbed.

"How long's it been like this?"

"Twenty-four years."

"All of them? Everyone? What happened?"

"A new chemical. A new mood. They called it Bliss." Her voice quavered as she bent forwards and pulled a plastic slip from the ragged, leathery sinews on the skeleton's neck. It was a token like they'd seen in the vendor's compound. "Everyone tried it. They couldn't stop. A virus mutated inside the compound and became airborne. Everything perished — even the virus, in the end. It killed the world in seven minutes flat. There was just enough time to close down the walkways and the flyovers, sealing off the under-city." He stood up to face her as she continued. "Those people on the motorway aren't lost, Doctor. They were saved."

"So the whole thing down there is running on automatic." He gazed around the room, taking in the surroundings. Ianto shut his eyes against them, just for a few moments, letting their voices wash over him.

"There's not enough power to get them out. We did all we could to stop the system from choking."

"Who's we? How did you survive?"

"He protected me." She held his austere gaze. "And he has been waiting for you, these long years." Somewhere in the room, or somehow in their heads, a grave voice rumbled.

_"Doctor." _The Time Lord dashed around the corner of the stands. Machines were flickering, wired to the outside of a great, dusty glass tank. Ianto couldn't help but stare. Inside the tank was a great... head, he supposed: a wide, heart-shaped face with curved bow-lips and contemplative brow, that gave off an aura of sheer serenity.

"The Face of Boe!" the Doctor exclaimed, darting forward to kneel in front of it, pressing his hands to the glass.

"Back in the old days, I was made his nurse, as penance for my sins."

_"I knew you'd come."_

The Doctor glanced back at Ianto, smiling reassuringly. "It's alright, Ianto, this is the Face of Boe. He's communicating telepathically, but we can talk to him. Come say hello." Ianto knelt diffidently in front of the glass, subconsciously allowing his mental barricades to relax. The great eyes opened wider, and a profound sense of warmth emanated throughout the room.

"_Cariad,"_ the voice whispered.

Ianto lifted his head. "What?"

"But that's..." The Doctor looked back and forth between them.

"Welsh. For someone you love." Ianto pressed his hand to the glass. "You know me?" _You love me? _Boe smiled, and Ianto felt his mind flooded with warmth, as tangible as stepping into a hot bath. "I'll, uh, take that as a yes," he said, smiling shyly, a little overwhelmed. He leaned his forehead to the glass, staring at the great eyes searchingly.

"But I've never brought Ianto here," the Doctor murmured wonderingly. "Does that mean it's something that hasn't happened for him yet?" A glimmer mischief coiled through the peace and affection. The Time Lord quirked an eyebrow and caught Ianto's curious gaze. "Okay, then. He's from your future."

"Again?" Ianto said ruefully. "This keeps happening. I... guess this means I'll see you again?" The Face rumbled, and Ianto realized he was laughing. "Well." He was unable to stop himself from smiling back. "I look forward to it."

"When I saw you before, you said..." the Doctor hesitated. "You said I'd see you for the third and final time."

The Face huffed. "_Time. The way you are, as you know me now, yes, it is the third and final time."_

"Oh, well, that clears that up," the Doctor chuckled, before growing solemn again. "Old friend, what happened to you?"

"_Failing."_

"He protected me from the virus by shrouding me in his smoke," Novice Hame explained. "But with no one to maintain it, the City's power died. The under-city would have fallen into the sea."

"So he saved them."

"The Face of Boe wired himself into the mainframe. He's giving his life force just to keep things running."

"But there are planets out there, you could have called for help," the Doctor said, perturbed.

"The last act of the Senate was to declare New Earth unsafe," she whispered. "The automatic quarantine lasts for one hundred years." Her head was bent in defeat.

"So you two stayed here," the Doctor said softly, getting to his feet. "All on your own, for all these years."

"We had no choice."

His eyes had softened, and he laid a hand on her shoulder. "Yes, you did."

"_Save them, Doctor. Save them," _Boe hummed.

* * *

><p>The Doctor sonicked a set of screens into action, staring at the traffic patterns as a red sequence flashed on the screen.<p>

"Car Four Six Five Diamond Six — it still registers! That's Martha!"

"She's alright," Ianto sighed with relief. Martha was alive, and there were no cybermen, just the cat-nurse and his Doctor and the tranquil old face from his future. "Ooh, you've got the glasses. Somebody means business."

"Oh yes! Ianto, hold this in place." Ianto took hold of the thick black rubber tubing as the Doctor scurried along the length of it, muttering, "Think, think, think. Take the residual energy, invert it, feed it through the electricity beds."

"There isn't enough power," Novice Hame reminded him as he reached the end, standing at another set of screens.

"Ah, you've got power! You've got me! I'm brilliant with computers, just you watch. Hame, Ianto, every switch on that bank, up to maximum!" Ianto grinned in spite of himself. The Doctor's enthusiasm was infectious, and he started flipping switches. The Doctor sprawled on his side, vigorously sonicking the panel in the middle of the floor. "I can't power up the city, but all the city needs is people."

"So what are you going to do?" Novice Hame cried.

"This!" He shoved a lever to the floor. There was a great dying hum as every screen and console powered down and went black. "No! No no no _no no no_!" He began a new frenzy of sonicking. "The transformers are blocked, the signal can't get through."

_"Doctor,"_ the voice gravelled insistently.

"Yeah, hold on, not now."

_"I give you my last..." _Boe's lips parted in a raspy exhale. Ianto pressed a worried hand to the glass as the Doctor's head shot up, the red lights blinking back to life as the whole room powered up.

"Hame, look after him! Don't you go dying on me, you big old face. You've got to see this." Novice Hame began cranking a wheel on the left side of the glass.

"Can I help?" Ianto asked her shyly. She gave him a grateful smile, but shook her head.

"The open road! Hah!" The Doctor wired up a microphone, standing in front of one of the telescreens. "Sorry, no Sally Calypso, she was just a hologram. My name's the Doctor. And this is an order. Everyone drive up. Right now. I've opened the roof of the motorway. Come on. Throttle those engines. Drive up. All of you, the whole under-city. Drive up, drive up, drive up! Fast! We've got to clear that fast lane. Drive up and get out of the way.

"Oy! Car Four Six Five Diamond Six! Martha! Drive up! You've got access above, drive up!" Ianto darted up the steps to gaze out the little sunlit window, smiling as thousands of motorcars drifted out amongst the spires of the city. "You keep driving, Brannigan, all the way up! 'Cause it's here, just waiting for you." The Doctor danced up the steps to the window next to Ianto. "The city of New New York. And it's yours." He glanced at the Welshman. "And don't forget, I want that coat back!"

"_I reckon that's a fair bargain, sir!"_ Brannigan's rich voice came through over the transmitter.

"And Car Four Six Five Diamond Six, I've sent you a flight path. Come to the Senate."

"_On my way!"_ Martha's voice rang through, and Ianto laughed in relief.

"Been quite a while since we've seen you, Martha Jones," the Doctor said cheekily. A slight splintering sound came from behind them.

"Doctor," Novice Hame called out to him. They both spun around, faces falling, as the glass began to fracture into an intricate spiderweb.

* * *

><p>"Doctor?" Martha's pattering footsteps sounded into the dark creaky room.<p>

"Over here."

"What happened out there?" She trotted around the corner to see the Doctor, Ianto, and Novice Hame all kneeling beside the upturned face, fallen from his great glass jar. "What's that?"

"It's the Face of Boe. It's alright. Come say hello. And this is Hame. She's a cat. Don't worry." Martha stepped timidly towards them. "He's the one that saved you, not me."

"My lord gave his life to save the city. And now he's dying."

Martha knelt beside Novice Hame, and Ianto shot her a fleeting smile. _Glad you're okay._

"Nah, don't say that," the Doctor argued. "Not old Boe. Still plenty of life left."

_"It's good to breathe the air once more, and see my friends again. My cariad." _Ianto reached out on an impulse and stroked his cheek with a featherlight touch.

"Who is he?" Martha asked.

"I don't even know, really," the Doctor said sadly. "Legend says the Face of Boe has lived for billions of years. Isn't that right? And you're not about to give up now."

_"Everything has its time. You know that, old friend, better than most._"

"The legend says more." Novice Hame leaned closer.

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Don't. There's no need for that."

"It says that the Face of Boe will speak his final secret to a traveller."

"Yeah, but not yet. Who needs secrets, eh?" he said hoarsely.

_"I have seen so much. Perhaps too much. I am the last of my kind — as you are the last of yours, Doctor."_ Martha gazed up at him in confusion, but the Doctor continued to stare at him, near tears.

"That's why we have to survive. Both of us. Don't go."

_"I must go. Farewell, Martha Jones, dear friend. Farewell, Ianto Jones, fy cariad. Dw i'n dy garu di."_ Ianto felt a tear slide down his own cheek unbidden, caught between reverence and regret when he realized that this weary old being was dying peacefully beside someone he loved, someone who didn't even know him yet. He let his hand linger gently on the leathery skin as the Face of Boe spoke his final words.

"_Know this, Time Lord. You... are not... alone."_

The great eyes slid closed for the last time. Ianto and Martha stared at the Doctor, watching a myriad of emotions flicker across his face; desperation became grief, became shock, disbelief, denial, astonishment, a flicker of something like hope that was rejected and promptly squashed. Somewhere along the way he settled on stunned. Novice Hame began to weep. Ianto closed his eyes and inclined his head. After a long few moments, Martha got to her feet, and the Doctor stood next to her. He put an arm around her shoulders, and Ianto followed, leaning his head onto his shoulder as they stood looking on in a final farewell.

* * *

><p>"All closed down," the Doctor said cheerfully as they picked their way back through the Pharmacy alley.<p>

"Happy?" Martha asked as he poked his head at one of the screens under a green cover.

"Happy happy!" She chuckled at this, but Ianto frowned. "New New York can start again. And they've got Novice Hame. Just what every city needs — cats in charge! Come on, time we were off." He strode ahead, but Martha stayed put.

"But what did he mean, though, the Face of Boe? How'd he know who we are, me and Ianto?" He turned around. Ianto looked up briefly at the mention of his name, but said nothing. "Why did he say that, you're not alone?" she prodded him.

"I dunno."

"You've got us. Is that what he meant?"

The corners of his mouth twitched. "I don't think so." Her face fell, and Ianto's frown deepened. "Sorry."

"Then what?" she asked quietly.

"Doesn't matter. Back to the TARDIS, off we go." He was trying so hard to be flippant. Martha pulled one of the knocked over chairs and set it up in the middle of the alley, taking a seat and looking prim.

"Oh, are you staying?"

"Until you talk to me properly, yes. He said last of your kind, what does that mean?"

"It really doesn't matter," he insisted.

"You don't talk, you never say!" she retorted frustratedly. "Why not?"

Ianto opened his mouth, and the Doctor shot him a vehement look. He raised an eyebrow and continued with "Fine pair we make. She can't get you to talk and half the time I can't get you to keep your mouth shut." He grabbed another chair and set it down next to Martha. "You know what, though? You should tell her. Or me, or both of us, or get a therapist. Talk to _some__body__,_ otherwise you'll go along pretending that everything's fine, and the next thing we know, you've drained the Thames again." Martha's eyebrows shot up at that. The Doctor looked sullen.

Finally, his shoulders slumped, and he looked at Martha. "It was supposed to be one trip. One trip, and you shouldn't have had to get kidnapped and stuck on a motorway, and nearly die from giant smog-eating crabs. You'd go home and pay your rent and take your exams and become a proper doctor and never have to understand who I am and the things I've seen and done and run away from."

Martha's face softened. "I want to understand."

He chuckled bitterly. "I suppose I should have known when I brought an almost-doctor on board. That's the thing about doctors, always trying to find out what's wrong and make it better." Martha cocked her head, trying to figure out whether one of them had just been insulted or complimented. "You want to know something about being a doctor? Some days, it doesn't work. Some days, you can't save everybody. Some days, you can't save _anybody._ You do everything you can and no matter how hard you try, you just can't fix it!" He turned his back and made to walk away when voices drifted in the distance, and they raised their eyes skyward as the city began to sing.

"So I should just stop trying, then?" Martha called at his retreating back. "Should I just give up? Is that what doctors do when they can't fix things?"

The Doctor froze, hesitated, until... "I lied to you." He turned to face them again. "Because I could pretend. Just for a bit, I could imagine they were still alive, underneath a burnt orange sky. I'm not just a Time Lord. I'm the last of the Time Lords. The Face of Boe was wrong. There's no one else." He hesitated again, before pulling yet another flimsy, abandoned chair from off the piles of cardboard and taking a seat. "And you're right, I do have you two. And I thought I had Rose, and so many others before her. And I lost her, and I lost them, and either you'll come to your senses and go home, or you stay, and then one day you're in danger and no matter what I do, I can't do anything to save you. And even if that doesn't happen, time itself takes its toll, and your fragile human body starts to fade, and your life gets used up while mine stretches on for miles. One way or another, I lose everyone."

His eyes watered and his voice cracked. "And I go on. And I don't give up, because there's an entire universe out there, because there's work to be done, because there are things to make better. It didn't start like that, exactly. When I was young and reckless, I stole a broken old ship and ran away from them, because there was so much to see, to explore, to discover. Only now the Time Lords are gone. Their knowledge, their power helped keep the universe in order, and now it's just me, trying to fix the things that are broken."

"What happened to them?" Martha asked softly.

"There was a war. A Time War. The last Great Time War. My people fought a race called the Daleks for the sake of all creation. " Ianto inhaled sharply. "And they lost. They lost. Everyone lost. They're all gone now. My family, my friends, even that sky. Oh, you should have seen her. Gallifrey." His eyes watered and they leaned in, entranced. "The second sun would rise in the south, and the mountains would shine. The leaves on the trees were silver, and when they caught the light every morning, it looked like a forest on fire. When the autumn came, the breeze would blow through the branches like a song …"


	15. Daleks in Manhattan: Pt 1

**Daleks in Manhattan will be in three parts as per usual, but the chapters will be shorter than average. I've cut a fair bit, although Evolution will be usual length. So, short intro, things will pick up a bit more between parts two and three.**

* * *

><p>The trio of time-travelers strolled through Central Park on an entirely spontaneous detour to the original New York, and were to be seen crunching through a carpet of fallen leaves as the Doctor went on with the history lesson of the day.<p>

"Herbert Hoover, 31st President of the USA, came to power a year ago. Up till then New York was a boom town, the Roaring Twenties, and then…"

"The Wall Street Crash, yeah?" Martha continued. "When was that, 1929?" A bicyclist skirted past them, dinging a cheerful bell. Ianto smiled to himself as the Doctor went on.

"Yeah. Whole economy wiped out overnight. Thousands of people unemployed. Suddenly the huddled masses doubled in number with nowhere to go. So they ended up here in Central Park."

"What? They actually live in the park?" Ianto asked.

"In the middle of the city?" The Doctor gave them both significant looks as they passed from the brightness of the autumn park to a village of crowded tents and huts. Fires were flickering in rusty barrels and the ground was a patchwork of mud and wooden planks. The residents watched them sidelong as they passed, wearing drab coats and ragged scarves and distrustful expressions.

"Ordinary people," the Doctor explained in a low voice. "Lost their jobs. Couldn't pay the rent and they lost everything. There are places like this all over America. You only come to Hooverville when there's nowhere else to go." Time-travelers always looked out of place, but Ianto felt uncomfortably conspicuous in his clean grey three-piece suit, not to mention that he was accompanying the Doctor in his classy tan longcoat and Martha in jeans and red leather jacket.

Yells and blows were exchanged up ahead on the path, and the three of them peered curiously with the rest of the crowd as an older man broke the fight apart with an obvious air of fair authority, turning to one of the young men at the heart of the fistfight.

"Now think real carefully before you lie to me."

"I'm starvin,' Solomon," the guilty disputant admitted. Solomon held out a hand and the young man reluctantly pulled a loaf of bread out from under his coat.

"We're all starving." He cut off the disapproving murmurs of the crowd. "We've all got family somewhere." He tore the bread in half and handed each piece to the two men. "No stealin' and no fightin'. You know the rules." He addressed the crowd at large. "Thirteen years ago I fought in the Great War. A lot of us did. And the only reason we got through was because we stuck together! No matter how bad things get, we still act like human beings. It's all we got." The onlookers drifted away and the Doctor nudge the two of them, nodding in Solomon's direction.

"Come on." They approached Solomon casually. "I suppose that makes you the boss around here." the Doctor said lightly. Solomon paused, taking in his appearance and accent with guarded deliberation.

"And, uh, who might you be?" Martha drew level with the Time Lord.

"He's the Doctor. That's Ianto, and I'm Martha."

"A doctor? Huh. Well, we got stockbrokers, we got a lawyer, but you're the first doctor. Neighbourhood gets classier by the day." He warmed his hands over a pot suspended over a fire. Ianto felt a wave of admiration for the man; despite all the appearances of living rough, he had a down-to-earth, commanding presence and intelligent eyes

"How many people live here?" Martha asked.

"At any one time, hundreds. No place else to go. But I will say this about Hooverville. We are a truly equal society, black, white, all the same. All starving. So you're welcome here. All three of you. But tell me, Doctor, you're a man of learning, right? Explain this to me." They all gazed up at the Empire State Building. "That there's going to be the tallest building in the world. How come they can do that, and we got people starving in the heart of Manhattan?" The Doctor's dark eyes glittered, but he gave no answer as Solomon turned away. They followed him back to the outside of his tent as he tossed the dregs of a pot of coffee onto the fire.

"So…men are going missing. Is this true?" The Doctor held up the newspaper and Solomon stepped forward to look at the headlines. He nodded.

"It's true all right." He turned into the tent as the Doctor followed, poking his head through the flap.

"But what does missing mean? Men must come and go here all the time. It's not like anyone's keeping a register."

"C'mon in." They sat in a little circle around the tent pole. "This is different."

"In what way?" Ianto asked. Their host hesitated.

"Someone takes them. At night." The Doctor's eyes narrowed in what Ianto recognized as his look for 'smells like trouble.' "We hear something. Someone calls out for help. By the time we get there, they're gone. Like they vanish into thin air."

"And you're sure someone's taking them?"

"Doctor, when you got next to nothing, you hold on to the little you got. Your knife, blanket, you take it with you. You don't leave bread uneaten, fire still burning."

"Have you been to the police?" Martha asked softly.

"Yeah, we tried that. Another deadbeat goes missing, big deal." She nodded, her eyes wide in sympathy.

"So, the question is, who's taking them and what for?" the Doctor pondered, tugging on his ear.

"Solomon!" An urgent voice called from outside the tent. A young man ducked his head through the flap."Solomon, Mr. Diagoras is here." The head withdrew just as quickly and they stood up and followed to a crowd of people addressed by three businessmen in sharp suits.

"I need men. Volunteers. I got a little work for you and you sure look like you can use the money."

"Yeah. What is the money?" the boy that had summoned them spoke up. He had an air of unassuming confidence that belied his age; he looked barely out of his teens.

"A dollar a day." The crowd groaned and scoffed.

"What's the work?" Solomon continued.

"A little trip down the sewers. Got a tunnel that collapsed needs clearing and fixing. Any takers?" The surrounding residents were all rumbling scornfully, shaking their heads

"A dollar a day? That's slave wage," Solomon said with composed distaste. "Men don't always come back up, do they?"

"Accidents happen," Mr. Diagoras replied, disdainfully callous.

"What do you mean? What sort of accidents?" the Doctor piped up.

"You don't need the work? That's fine," the recruiter said lazily. The Doctor put his hand in the air, earning himself a sharp "Enough with the questions."

"Oh, n-n-no. I'm volunteering. I'll go." Martha and Ianto looked round, eyebrows raised.

"Anybody else?" Diagoras demanded. Solomon and the boy, Frank, raised their hands reluctantly.

"I'll kill you for this," Martha chided him as they raised their hands. The Doctor chuckled as Ianto added, "Not if I beat you to it."


	16. Daleks in Manhattan: Pt 2

**So, I wasn't going to update until I'd finished writing Evolution of the Daleks. Well, I'm nearly finished, and it's been a week since last chapter. And not updating defeats the purpose of writing in advance. Thank you, always, for your reviews and encouragement. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I do writing it.**

* * *

><p>They dropped down a ladder into a dank system of pitch dark tunnels. Diagoras pointed out directions.<p>

"Turn left. Go about half a mile. Follow Tunnel 273. Fall's right ahead of you. You can't miss it."

"And when do we get our dollar?" Frank demanded.

"When you come back up."

"And if we don't come back up?" the Doctor asked quietly. Ianto didn't miss the edge of steel in his voice. Diagoras did.

"Then I got no one to pay," he replied belligerently,

"We'll be back," Solomon said confidently, shining the beam of his torch in the boss's face.

"Let's hope so," Martha murmured.

"We are a difficult sort to get rid of," Ianto added, examining a spot on the ceiling with detached disinterest. He followed others down the tunnel as the Doctor stood in place, staring at Diagoras. He smirked to himself. He couldn't see the Time Lord's expression, but could picture it easily. Diagoras was trying not to look too rattled.

"We just gotta stick together," Frank was saying as the Doctor caught up behind them. "It's easy to get lost. It's like a huge rabbit warren. You could hide an army down here."

"So what about you, Frank?" Martha asked. "You're not from around these parts, are you?"

"Oh, you could talk. No, no, I'm from Tennessee, born and bred."

"So how come you're here?"

"Uh, my daddy died. Mama…couldn't afford to feed us all. So, I'm the oldest, up to me to feed myself, so put on my coat, hitched up here on the railroads." Frank made a show of nonchalance, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He went on, "There's a whole lot of runaways in camp younger than me. From all over; Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas… Solomon keeps a lookout for us." Solomon glanced back at them with an affirming nod. "So, what about you? Both of you, you're a _long _way from home." Martha smiled.

"Yeah, I'm just a hitcher."

"You stick with me, you'll be all right," Frank said blithely. He looked curiously at Ianto, who shrugged.

"The company I worked for went up in flames. Literally. The Doctor saved my life, and I've been following him ever since. Martha joined us not long after that." Satisfied that his companions were getting on, the Doctor put his mind to the matter at hand.

"So this Diagoras bloke, who is he then?"

"A couple of months ago, he was just another foreman. Now it seems like he's running most of Manhattan," Solomon answered.

"How did he manage that, then?"

"These are strange times. A man can go from being King of the Hill to the lowest of the low overnight," Solomon said slowly. "I guess for some folks it works the other way 'round."

"Whoooaa!" The Doctor darted forward, shining his torch in the middle of the tunnel at a gelatinous blob that glowed a sickly green color. Martha gasped and knelt down to look.

"Is it radioactive or something?" She moved to the Doctor's other side for a better look as he donned his dark-rimmed glasses. She covered her nose and mouth with her hands. "It's gone off, whatever it is."

"Looks like a jellyfish," Ianto threw out suggestions offhandedly, a casual distance back from the offending smell. "Or brains. Giant spider brains? Radioactive giant spider brains?" Frank and Solomon looked between the three of them and the blob with confusion.

"And you've got to pick it up," Martha said resignedly. The Doctor held it with both hands. When he moved it to his face, Ianto started.

"Nah-ah - no, stop. Don't eat that." When the Doctor scowled at him, he reiterated, "We don't eat squishy green things that could make us sick, remember?"

"Can't be any worse than a pear. Euugh." He nudged Martha. "Shine your torch through it. Hmm... composite organic matter. Martha? Medical opinion?"

"It's not human. I know that."

"No, it's not. And I'll tell you something else." The Doctor stood up. "We must be at least half a mile in and I don't see any sign of a collapse, do you? So why did Mr Diagoras send us down here?" He was likely endeavoring to sound cryptic, which Ianto took as an opportunity to delightedly undermine him.

"Well, we're in a dark creepy tunnel in an area where lots of people have gone missing, and he certainly seemed confident that we won't come back up. I rather hope it's not actually radioactive giant spiders; a little variety is _not_ too much to ask for." The Doctor gave a light huff, and Martha gave him Irritated Look #23: 'I don't know where you came up with all that and I don't really believe you and I'm going to ignore it for now.'

"So where are we now? What's above us?" she asked the Doctor.

"Well…we're right underneath Manhattan."

They followed the length of the tunnels, now focused and wary. Eventually, Solomon stopped them.

"We're way beyond half a mile. There's no collapse, nothing."

"That Diagoras bloke, was he lying?" Ianto glanced at Martha. She actually seemed surprised by the idea.

"Looks like it," the Doctor replied brusquely.

"No doubt we've stumbled upon some sort of conspiracy that involves the disappearance of people for some unknown purpose, and he's likely at the heart of it." Ianto chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. "Not a mastermind, more likely an inside man. Whatever's behind this likely has a secret lair. For his sake, Diagoras had better hope he doesn't get eaten," he finished mildly. He was met with Irritated Look #25, 'That's really not funny and I can't believe you're keeping this up.' He shrugged. "It happens."

"So why did he want people to come down here?" Frank asked, glancing around warily.

"Solomon, I think it's time you took this lot back. I'll be much quicker on my own." By the Doctor's breezy but entirely insistent tone, it was clear that they'd found trouble, and it would really not do to let him go alone. Ianto rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to contradict him when an eerie squeal echoed through the tunnels.

"What the hell was that?"

"Hello?" Frank called out. Martha jumped and they shushed him.

"What if it's one of the folk gone missing?" he lowered his voice to a hiss. "You'd be scared, half-mad down here on your own."

"Do you think they're still alive?" the Doctor asked seriously.

"Heck, we ain't seen no bodies down here. Maybe they just got lost," he whispered. More shrieks echoed through the surrounding tunnels. It was nigh impossible to tell which direction they came from.

"I know I never heard nobody make a sound like that," Solomon said decidedly.

"But which way's it comin' from?" More shrieks, more squeals. "Sounds like there's more than one of 'em." Ianto nodded at Frank, falling in step behind the Doctor, ears pricked.

"I think you're right. The question is, more than one of what, exactly."

"This way." The Doctor took a careful step forward, as Solomon shone his torch down an intersecting tunnel.

"No, that way."

"Doctor." Martha gave a shaky whisper, facing around the other direction. A bulky, shapeless figure with ruddy skin and pricked ears huddled against the wall, grunting indistinctly.

"Who are you?" Solomon demanded, before Frank cut in.

"Are you lost? Can you understand me?" He took a hesitant step forward. "I've been thinkin' about folk lost down here..."

It's all right, Frank. Just stay back," the Doctor said quickly. "Let me have a look." He began a cautious approach towards the abandoned... thing. "He's got a point, though, my mate Frank. I'd hate to be stuck down here on my own. We know the way out. Daylight. If you want to come with us." He knelt in front of it and let the beam of torchlight fall onto it. "Oh, but what are you?" Dressed in a rough, burlap-sack like uniform was a creature with the head of a pig.

"Is, uh, that some kind of carnival mask?" Solomon asked, a little shakily.

"No, it's real." He turned back to the pig-man. "I'm sorry. Now listen to me. I promise I can help. Now, who did this to you?" Shadows flickered on the far wall, and Ianto stiffened.

"Doctor. _Doctor._"

"Shh, don't spook 'im." Martha followed Ianto's gaze and held her torch up as more hulking pig-men lumbered into view.

"Doctor, I think you'd better get back here," she said nervously. He glanced up, then straightened fully. Martha shuddered as they advanced with dull, single-minded intent.

"Next time I use that tone of voice, do try paying attention," Ianto growled softly. "Doctor!"

"Actually…good point." Finally, the Doctor started backing towards their little group.

"They're following you." Martha's voice quavered. There were at least five or six of them, sluggish yet positively feral.

"Yeah, I noticed that, thanks."

"I think we've moved past the 'look down and back away slowly stage,'" Ianto snapped.

"Yeah. Yeah, we have. Right then... Joneses, Frank, Solomon…"

"_In your own time, Doctor!"_

"Yeah, basically…RUN!" They pounded back through the darkness and the dankness, shoes slapping against the wet surface as the pig-men pursued them in a clamoring cacophony of shrieks. Ianto retraced the route in his mind. They'd turned left on their way in, so... Martha, at the head of the group, slammed to a halt and yelled "Where are we going?"

"_Turn right!" _Ianto shouted. There were more than eight pig-men by now. About a third of the way down their intended corridor, the Doctor skidded and veered off to his left.

"AH! There's a ladder! Come on!" He launched himself up and sonicked a hatch open. Martha chucked her torch aside and followed him up. Frank tossed his coil of rope aside and grabbed a cross bar, wielding it at the two pig-men that had followed them down that tunnel.

"Frank!" Solomon hesitated at the bottom of the ladder.

"Go on, get out!" Ianto ordered both of them. Solomon started up his way up, as their brief victory was short lived; the rest of the pig-men had rallied and cornered them. Ianto brained one of them neatly with a brick, backing up and managing to haul Frank back towards the ladder. The Doctor and Solomon both had their hands outstretched through the hatch, straining to pull Frank and Ianto up and out. The pigs swarmed the ladder, practically engulfing Ianto in a writhing huddle of solid mass and stink, dragging him to the ground. He heard the Doctor's anguished yells as they tore Frank from his grip on the Doctor's hand. The hatched clanked shut above them, and they were wrenched upright into a forced march, back, back through the tunnels; the latest victims of the mystery disappearances. When he got his breath back, Ianto sighed heavily. First Martha in New Earth; now it was his turn to get dragged off into trouble.

"I hate Wednesdays."


	17. Daleks in Manhattan: Pt 3

**I bet Ianto has some sort of schedule worked out, wherein Thursdays require a visit to psychiatric and Wednesdays involve g****etting captured/kidnapped/dragged off/tied up/strapped to an operating table. Sundays, of course, are boring.**

**I was curious to see what would happen when Ianto was put in a situation where he would lose his composure. Let me know what you think.**

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><p>After a few minutes, Ianto realized that the Doctor wasn't coming for them. He kept looking back and forth between the pig-men, trying to discern some spark of intelligence or understanding. Realizing there would be no way of communicating or reasoning with them, he figured at least they wouldn't understand him if he and Frank started talking. Locked in a death-grip, he wasn't really able to look over his shoulder to see how the boy was doing.<p>

"Frank. Are you alright?" From behind him, he heard Frank give an indistinct reply. Ianto grimaced on his behalf. "Kidnapped by pig-men. Okay, that was a stupid question. Are you injured?"

"Erm... bit bruised, but that's 'bout all. You?"

"No broken bones. Slight loss of dignity. No change there." Frank gave a shaky laugh.

"You're awful calm about this. Earlier, too, you were talkin' like this happens all the time."

"Well... the Doctor does have a talent for sniffing out trouble."

"So... d'you think he'll come lookin' for us?"

"Or stumble on the same path eventually, yes. His methods at problem solving are... unusual, but they tend to be effective at dropping him in at the right place and the right time."

"What d'you reckon they're gonna do with us?" Frank muttered ahead to him.

"Not sure. I imagine it will answer why people are disappearing, considering we've disappeared as well." The pig-man that held him captive thumped him in the shoulder. "Fine, shutting up now."

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><p>Having no access to his stopwatch, Ianto didn't know how long they'd been marching, but was estimating at least a few hours. Their little patrol came to a halt as another squad of pig-men ushered another group of frightened humans in a line. They were shoved forcibly into the middle of the line, and kept on going.<p>

"I think we're going in circles," Ianto said softly. "I recognize those marks on the walls, I think we're back near the ladder."

"S'pose we could make a break for it?" Frank whispered hopefully.

"Might be worth a shot." Ianto tensed when he heard a woman's voice yelling from down one of the tunnels. They rounded a corner and saw a pig-man staring at -

"Martha?" Ianto's stomach flooded with equal parts relief and alarm. She looked up and gasped.

"You're alive!" She darted into the middle of the line and threw her arms around him, then around Frank. "We thought we lost you, both of you." A pig-man grunted and shoved them.

"Alright, alright, we're moving." Martha linked arms with them as they pressed forward.

"Does the Doctor know they got you too?" Ianto gave her arm a gentle squeeze. Martha hesitated, barely a fraction of a second.

"Yeah. Yeah, he's got to." Ianto glanced back, and she said hurriedly, "I made a bit of a commotion, he must have followed, I could have sworn he was right behind me."

"He'll turn up. He always does."

They were all halted again in a cave-like chamber of one of the tunnels, huddled together and forced to wait on something.

"What are they keeping us here for?" Frank whispered.

"I don't know. I've just got a nasty feeling that we're being kept in the larder," Martha replied bitterly. The pig-men began grunting and squealing urgently, shying away from the tunnel entrance.

"What are they doing? What's wrong?" Frank called aloud.

"_Silence. Silence."_

"No..." Ianto felt his blood run cold. His entire being froze up, mind refusing to believe that he'd heard that caged robotic shriek that haunted his nightmares just as often as the rhythmic pounding of the cybermen. But a metal Dalek glided into the chamber with an electric hum and a flashing cadence of lights, and the only thought left in his head was 'it's all over.' "No, god no..."

"What the hell is that?" Martha hissed. She turned to glance at Ianto, and was shocked to see his eyes wide with terror. Ianto, who had snarked his way alongside her with rhino police and witches and cat people, was stiff as a board, gripping her hand so hard it was losing circulation. He had the look of a small child that would have liked nothing more than to hide behind the sofa with his eyes shut tight and his hands over his ears. Since that wasn't much of an option, he more or less shut himself down.

"_You will form a line. Move." _The pig-men buffeted the panicked huddle of humans about, as Martha noted Ianto's distress and shouted desperately, "Just do as they say, okay?"

_"The female is wise. Obey." _They were corralled into a line, side by side. Martha kept a steady grip on both Frank and Ianto as a second Dalek followed.

_"Report." _Ianto gave a faint shudder.

"I don't understand, they're supposed to be all gone, I thought he got rid of them -"

"_These are strong specimens. They will help the Dalek cause._"

"Dalek?" Martha whispered. Ianto nodded, confusion flitting across his features.

"What the hell's going on? A Dalek has no cause, they just kill things."

"Just hush, I've got you, we'll try and work out what they're up to, yeah?"

_"What is the sta-tus of the fi-nal experiment?"_

_"The Dalekanium is in place. The energy conduc-tor is now com-plete."_

_"Then I will extract pris-oners for select-ion." _A pig-man darted forward to restrain the first prisoner in the line as the Dalek shifted towards, jerking its plunger device into the man's face. "_Intelligence scan, in-itiate. Read-ing brain waves. Low intelligence." _

"You callin' me stupid?" the man blustered.

"_Silence. This one will become a pig-slave." _The unfortunate prisoner was dragged away, shouting, as the scans continued, down and down the line. Ianto's stature was so tense Martha thought he'd all but shatter. Frank kept a hand on her shoulder protectively, unaware of the ruthlessness that the Daleks possessed but nonetheless alarmed, especially by the fact that Ianto had gone from utterly composed to utterly petrified just from their arrival. Sorted between high intelligence and low intelligence, the latter were hauled off to become pig-men, the former, including the three of them, to be placed in what the Daleks called the 'Final Experiment."

"You can't just experiment on people!" Martha protested. "It's insane, it's -" Ianto jerked her arm and made a strangled shushing noise.

"Martha, please, don't." She looked at him wildly, taking in his anguished expression. "Don't give them an excuse to kill you." She nodded dumbly as the Dalek proceeded down the tunnel.

"_Prisoners of high intelligence will be taken to the transgenic laboratory." _They were shuffling forward again, still huddling together in an awkward line. With the Daleks at either end and their attention directed away, Ianto got a hold of himself, trying to breathe a little more evenly.

"Keep walking." In one fluid movement, a tan longcoat and head of erratic hair materialized in the line between him and Martha. Ianto felt his limbs go watery with sheer relief, and Martha gasped.

"Oh, I am so glad to see you."

"Yeah, well, you can kiss me later." The Doctor smirked to himself. "You too, Yan, if you like." Ianto nearly snorted. S_marmy space git. _

"Once was quite enough, thanks," he replied faintly. The Doctor gave a humorless chuckle, which faded immediately.

"You alright?"

"The hell d'you think?"

"Yeah, figured."

"If we die here, I'll kill you."

"Not if I beat you to it," Martha echoed his words from earlier. They were corralled into a rectangular cavern with harsh electric lighting and wires everywhere. At the far end of the room, a Dalek made of black metal was juddering in place, with smoke wafting from every seam. Another Dalek stood vigil beside it as the two captors approached.

_"Report."_

_"Dalek Sec is entering the final stage of evolution."_

_"Scan him. Prepare for birth."_

"Evolution?" the Doctor muttered to himself.

"What's wrong with old Charlie boy over there?" Martha whispered.

"Ask them."

"What, me?" She rounded on him, wide-eyed. "Don't be daft."

"I don't exactly want to get noticed, ask them what's going on."

"What the hell, Doctor?" Ianto hissed as she stepped to the middle of the room. "What if they kill her?"

"They need us here for something, they won't. Yet."

"Daleks. I demand you tell me." They swiveled on the spot and stared at her. Tense and shaking, Martha held her ground. "What is this - final experiment? ...Report!"

"_You will bear witness."_

"To what?"

_"This is the dawn of a new age." _The Doctor's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Those words rarely boded well in the best of circumstances; with the Daleks, they could prove catastrophic.

"What does that mean?"

"_We are the only four Daleks in exist-ence. The species must e-volve. The chil-dren of Skaro must walk again."_The Dalek rotated, effectively turning its back on her, returning to the side of the other three. The Dalek shell powered down, metal plates shifting smoothly apart. A crouching figure, bent within the confines of the casing, unfurled itself and stood upright. A figure in Mr. Diagoras's suit, with webby hands and talons for nails, a scalloped head with brainlike patterns, a face with stiffly writhing tentacles; a figure with a single eye.

"I... am... a human... Dalek. I am... your future."


	18. Evolution of the Daleks: Pt 1

**I quite enjoyed writing these chapters. While I adore the banter, it's been very rewarding to expand Ianto's character to more than pithy one-liners. **

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><p>"These humans... will become like me," the creature rasped. "Prepare them for hybridisation." Of all the words Ianto never wanted to hear again... it might as well have droned out '<em>you will be assimilated.' <em>He screwed his eyes shut as the pig-men surrounded them and hauled them towards the center of the room, Martha yelling abuse at them. In the midst of the jolting confusion, tinny radio music began to play from off to the side.

"What is that sound?" the hybrid Dalek demanded.

"Ah, well, now, that would be me." The Doctor stepped cheerily from behind the machinery. Ianto hadn't even noticed that he'd left their side. The Time Lord set a little box radio on the table and turned off the music. "'Ello. Surprise! Boo! Et Cetera."

"Doctor," the Dalek rasped in reply.

"_The ene-my of the Da-leks!" _one of his metal counterparts grated.

_"EXTERMINATE!"_

"Wait!" The leader threw out his weblike hands, keeping the others at bay. Their eyestalks twitched in consternation, but they stayed put. The Doctor advanced.

"Well, then. A new form of Dalek," he spoke as though admiring a curious sort of frog or new invention. "Fascinating. And very clever."

"The Cult of Skaro escaped your slaughter," the new Dalek hissed.

"How did you end up in 1930?" he demanded.

"Emergency Temporal Shift." Ianto shuddered when the realization hit. Martha glanced at him with concern, and he whispered, "It's the same ones from the - the battle. They were at Canary Wharf." She nodded and squeezed his hand as the Doctor's blithe curiosity was replaced with scoffing.

"Oh, that must have roasted up your power cells, yeah?" He tugged an earlobe, chuckling bitterly and pacing about, appraising them all. "Time was, four Daleks could have conquered the world." He gazed at the ceiling speculatively, rolling his words around; flippant, scathing, cocksure. "But instead you're skulking away, hidden in the dark, experimenting. All of which... results in you."

"I am Dalek in human form!"

"What does it feel like? You can talk to me, Dalek Sec." He stood face to tentacle with the head of the Cult. "It is Dalek Sec, in'it?" He grinned maniacally. "That's your name? You've got a name and a mind of your own. Tell me what you're thinking right now."

"I feel... humanity." He turned his back on the Doctor, head bowed in... shame, or growing comprehension?

"Good. That's good."

"I…feel…everything we wanted from mankind." Dalek Sec turned to face him again, his voice raspy and halting. "Ambition, hatred, aggression and war. Such…a genius for war."

"No, that's not what humanity means," the Doctor said firmly. Dalek Sec cut him off.

"I think it does! At heart, this species is so very…Dalek."

"All right, so what have you achieved, then?" the Doctor spun about and began pacing. "With this Final Experiment, eh? _Nothing!" _he spat derisively. "'Cause I can show you what you're missing with this thing. Simple little radio." He patted the mahogany box.

_"What is the purpose of that device?" _one of the metal Daleks screeched.

"Well, exactly," he said waspishly. "It plays music, what's the point of that? Oh, with music, you can dance to it, sing with it... fall in love to it. Unless you're a Dalek, of course. Then it's just _noise_!" He aimed the sonic screwdriver at the radio and it blared a grating squeal through the speakers. Daleks, pig-men, and humans alike recoiled at the raucous vibrations. "_RUN!" _Free from the grasp of the pig-men, the humans pounded from the laboratory, to the dank and dubious refuge of the tunnels.

Running on sheer adrenaline relieved Ianto of the sick tension that had been coiling in his stomach from the moment the metal Dalek had drifted into the cavern. Blood pounding in his ears, fueled by fear and traumatic memories, his senses were heightened, blind instinct proving his direction as keen as ever. Martha reeled to a halt at a crosspath, and he pushed to the front with the Doctor on his heels, both shouting, "This way! Keep moving!" Catching a shock of blonde hair atop a dark coat, the Doctor called, "You too, Tallulah! Run!"

"What happened to Laszlo?" she shrieked as Frank pulled her into the line. There was a magnetic grinding from behind them as the Daleks pursued them, until the ladder came into view and the Doctor finally yelled, "Come on, come on! Everyone up!" They piled out of the shaft and into the props room of the theater. Slamming the metal cover in place, the Doctor allowed them a moment's respite.

"Alright, you lot. It's not safe here, we're going back to Hooverville to regroup."

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><p>They were a subdued little huddle of traumatized souls that straggled back across the harsh crunch of leaves of Central Park. Martha had her arm around Tallulah, who had tearfully filled her in about meeting a half-pig Laszlo in the tunnels and how he wouldn't return with her. Martha listened sympathetically until the showgirl sniffled a bit and grew silent. She watched the Doctor, striding at the head of the pack with purpose in his stride and a face like thunder. At her other side, Frank's eyes were darting nervously. He looked shaken, but caught her stare and gave her a weak smile. She returned it with an encouraging nod, before letting her gaze fall on Ianto. His hands were jammed into his pockets, head bent against the chill November breeze, tense as a strung bow.<p>

"Ianto? You alright?" she asked cautiously. His face was stony, guarding his emotions behind a wall of granite blocks and trapping himself in with them.

"I'm fine." He quickened his pace almost imperceptibly, but it put him ahead, deflecting any more questions.

They sat on the crude wooden benches around a fire, recovering their nerves as the Doctor recounted the events to Solomon.

"These... Daleks, they sound like the stuff of nightmares. And they wanna breed?"

"They're splicing themselves into human bodies. If I'm right, they've got a farm of breeding stock right here in Hooverville. We've got to get everyone out."

"Hooverville's the lowest place a man can fall. There's nowhere else to go."

"I'm sorry, Solomon. You've got to scatter. Go anywhere. Down to the railroads, travel across state, just get out of New York," the Doctor insisted.

"There's got to be a way to reason with these things."

"Not a chance," Martha scoffed.

"You ain't seen 'em, boss," Frank added, jumping to his feet.

"Daleks are bad enough at anytime, but right now they're vulnerable, and that makes them more dangerous than ever." The tense silence was broken with frantic whistles as one of the men raced for camp, hollering, "They're coming! They're coming!"

"Sentry must've seen something!" They all jumped to their feet as panic spawned, people making for the center as the sentry yelled, "They're here! I seen 'em! Monsters!"

"It's started," the Doctor said grimly as the citizens of Hooverville were called to arms, passing out rifles as a squad of pig-men wreaked havoc on the tents and belongings and stragglers. Those who panicked and ran for it were quickly picked off as Solomon yelled futilely, "Come back! We gotta stick together! It's not safe out there! Come back!"

"We've got to get out of the park!" Martha said desperately as the Doctor stood tall, trying to make sense of the surrounding panic. Ianto found a rifle shoved into his hands, taking example from Frank and priming it.

"We can't!" The Doctor darted back to her side. "They're on all sides. They're driving people back towards us." They were corralled into a tight little huddle as the pig-men advanced.

"We're trapped!" Tallulah wailed.

"Then we stick together!" Solomon shouted. Those with guns began firing off shots, nailing the first wave of pig-men.

"If we can just hold them off til daylight..." Martha's voice was strained as she brandished a club.

"Oh, Martha... they're just the foot soldiers," the Doctor said darkly, gaze turning skyward. Ianto's blood ran cold and his stomach knotted onto itself, weighing like lead in his core.

"Oh my God," Martha said, stricken. They followed the Doctor's gaze as a Dalek, suspended in mid-air, swooped and hovered over Hooverville.

"What in this world..." Solomon was cut off by the sentry.

"It's the devil! A devil in the sky. God save us all, it's damnation."

"Oh yeah? We'll see about that!" Frank snarled, firing off his rifle. It blasted in a puff of smoke as the bullet seemed to hit the Dalek square, yet had no effect. The Doctor darted beside them as Ianto shoved the barrel of the gun down, dreading that any second the Dalek would turn on Frank, while privately admiring the boy's courage.

"It's not going to work," he told Frank hoarsely, "They've got shields, bullets won't do a thing." Martha moved to the Doctor's other side.

"There's more than one of them." A second Dalek swooped beside the first, and they fired off beams of energy. Having abandoned his own gun, Ianto watched helplessly as they laid waste to the village, huts and carts dissolving in columns of flame, people thrown aside and even hit directly. Ianto rounded on the Time Lord, eyes wide with terror, watery from the smoke and despair.

"Doctor, what the hell do we do?"

"_The humans will surrender," _the first Dalek insisted. The Doctor took a step forward.

"LEAVE THEM ALONE! They've done nothing to you!" Solomon lowered his gun and stood level with the Doctor, who grabbed his arm.

"No, Solomon, stay back!" Solomon ignored him.

"I'm told that I'm addressin' the Daleks, is that right? From what I hear, you're outcasts, too."

"Solomon, _don't."_

"Doctor, this is my township, you will respect my authority," he said loudly. Ianto strode forward and stood beside them.

"Daleks have no concept of mercy, or coexistence. To try and parlay with them would be suicide, and you're the only leader these people have." Ianto's tone was muted but edged with steel. Solomon gazed at the two of them seriously, and said quietly, "I have to try." He pushed the Doctor off his arm and stood a short ways away. The Doctor shook his head, holding his eyes with a grievous expression, but he backed off, nudging Ianto back towards the huddle of people. Solomon set down his gun.

"Daleks…ain't we all the same? Underneath, ain't we all kin? 'Cause, see, I've just discovered this past day God's universe is a thousand times the size I thought it was. And that scares me. Oh, yeah. Terrifies me. Right down to the bone. But it's got to give me hope…hope that maybe together we can make a better tomorrow. So I…I beg you now if you have any compassion in your hearts, then you'll meet with us and stop this fight." Martha clenched her stick in both hands, willing desperately for the Dalek to pay heed. With Solomon's appeal to emotions, Ianto had given him up for lost then and there. "Well…what do you say?" In the thick, heavy silence that followed, Ianto turned away, awaiting the inevitable.

"_EXTERMINATE!" _Solomon was lit with a sickly green light as he crumpled to the ground. The crowd screamed as one, counterpointed with Frank's anguished "NO! No, Solomon!" Ianto stared dumbly after him as he ran to his fallen leader.

"They killed him. They just shot him on the spot," Martha cried bitterly, burying her face in Ianto's jacket. He gave her shoulders a quick squeeze, as much to reassure himself as her.

"Daleks," the Doctor growled. He advanced to the frontlines again. "ALRIGHT, SO IT'S MY TURN! THEN KILL ME!" Martha gasped and stared at him wide-eyed.

"KILL ME, if it'll stop you attacking these people!" Stunned out of his sickened daze, Ianto found his voice.

"Doctor, what _the hell are you doing?" _he thundered. The Doctor ignored him just as Solomon had done.

"_I will be the de-stroyer of our great-est enemy."_

"Then do it! _Do it! Just do it!_"

"Doctor, STOP IT!" The Doctor whirled his head to see Ianto's face wracked with dismay, making no move to extract himself from Martha's deathgrip on his arm. He nearly clung to her himself at the first grating syllables of the Dalek's dreaded cry.

"_EXTERMINATE - "_ The bolt of green death never came. "_I do not un-derstand. It is the Doc-tor." _The Doctor lowered his arms, brows knitted in consternation as the Dalek carried its end of a one-sided argument. "_The urge to kill is too strong. ...I ...Obey." _

"What's going on?" the Doctor demanded.

"_You will fol-low."_

"No!" With a jolt, Martha wrenched herself out of the crowd and ran to the Doctor's side. "You can't go!"

"I've got to go."

"For god's sake, Doctor, listen to her if you won't bloody well listen to me!" Ianto snapped.

"The Daleks just changed their minds. Daleks _never _change their minds." He looked between them, teeth clenched and eyes manic.

"But what happens to the rest of us?" Martha whispered. His eyes roved over the frightened citizens of Hooverville, and nodded, reeling around to face the two Daleks.

"One condition! If I come with you, you _spare the lives _of everyone here! Do you hear me?"

"_Hu-mans will be spared. Doctor... follow."_

"I'm coming with you." Ianto spoke quietly, his gaze as stern as he could manage under the circumstances; he would have honestly liked nothing more than to run away and never look back, but he wasn't letting the Doctor go alone.

"So am I," Martha declared, standing firmly by his side. Ianto shot her a worried glance, but didn't argue; she would make her own decisions. The Doctor felt a twinge of both gratitude and regret for both of them, belying his currently flinty countenance. That they could see the ruthlessness of the Daleks firsthand and still follow him willingly into the heart of danger... after everything that had happened and could happen, sometimes he wondered why humans showed him such trust and loyalty. And he knew he couldn't let them follow him this time. Not yet, at least, and not straight into the line of fire.

"Martha, stay here. Do what you do best. People are hurt. You can help them. Let me go." Her eyes filled with tears but she gave him a slight nod. Ianto's expression was still stony. "Ianto..."

"Half a minute ago you stood in front of that thing and screamed for it to kill you. Do you really think I could just let you waltz in after them?"

"I can't bring you in there either."

"Then learn some self-preservation, or I won't let you out of my sight. Martian-boy." Ah, he'd found the magic words. The Doctor's gaze softened and he grasped him gently by the shoulders.

"Alright. If you let me deal with the Daleks alone, I promise I'll stay alive and in one piece." Well, not quite the result he had hoped for, but maybe that would be enough.

_"The Doctor will follow, NOW." _Ianto flinched before he could stop himself, the rest of his resolve bludgeoned into itty-bitty pieces. He nodded in acquiescence. The Doctor gave the Dalek a baleful glower, stalking away after it. He turned back to them with a glint of his old bravado.

"Oh, and can I just say..." He gripped Ianto's hand in both of his. "Thank you very much." He gave a slight wink that faded and left his eyes deadly serious with meaning. He pivoted back and strode away behind the hovering Daleks. Ianto flipped open the cool fold of leather left in his hand, revealing the blank psychic paper. He looked back up to see the Doctor's soft tan coat drifting away into the darkness, leaving them alone.

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><p><strong> Reviews are always appreciated; they really help keep the direction of the story, and spark a lot of new ideas. By all means, let me know of things you'd like to see, either for episodes or long-term arcs.<strong>


	19. Evolution of the Daleks: Pt 2

**Over 100 reviews! You guys are amazing! Thank you, Drake, as always, and djfox31 for your input, I've been making more effort to add new material to the episodes. I hope you all enjoy the chapter!**

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><p>The village was in ruins, and Ianto threw himself into the work of dousing fires, righting shelters, and finding missing people, letting his tasks distract him. It made him feel useful, dissolving the sense of utter panic he'd felt when the Daleks revealed themselves. He cursed himself inwardly; having prided himself on stoicism in the face of danger, the loss of control over his emotions felt like a blow to his armor. It made him feel exposed, vulnerable.<p>

He had told Martha about the psychic paper, and as he passed by her makeshift hospital, he could hear her thinking out loud, bouncing ideas around as she patched up the injured refugees of Hooverville. He and Frank had moved Solomon's body, laying him in state under one of the tents, covered with a sheet of canvas. Now, the boy was sitting by one of the fires, head bent, shoulders shaking. At a loss for anything to say, he settled for sitting quietly at his side and laying a hand on his shoulder. Frank tensed and shot him a wary glance, before recognizing Ianto and dropping his head again. Eventually, he mumbled, "How did you know what those things were?" A thousand painful images rose unbidden in his mind. He clamped them down and shut them behind a wall, refusing to allow a shudder as his words coming through in a passive, emotionless voice.

"There was a battle. The institute that I worked for... tampered with things beyond their understanding. They released not just the Daleks, but an entire army of metal men. People who had everything that made them human, wiped blank. No memories, no emotions... just a shell of metal. There were four Daleks, the same four that were here tonight. And they went to war. Four Daleks, millions of cybermen. And the Daleks were winning. And we were all caught in the crossfire." There was so much more to it; the conversions, the millions of Daleks from the void ship, the enmity between the Doctor and Torchwood, but Ianto couldn't really go on. "The Doctor defeated them. All of them." Frank looked up.

"Who is he, anyway?"

Well, there was an impossible question. A cosmic vigilante? An errant thrill-seeker? A 'smarmy space git,' a nigh godlike being, a hyperactive child, a stroppy mad scientist who loves his box?

"A man from another world. The Daleks are his oldest enemies. And if anyone can save us tonight, it's him. But I think he needs us to find something. I'm not sure where he wants us to go, but..." He looked up to see Martha and Tallulah standing off to the side, listening in.

"The Daleks said that they had an energy converter, and that the Dalekanium was in place," Martha spoke up. "Frank, Mr. Diagoras was in on the whole thing, he must've had lots of connections, get you jobs all over town, yeah?"

"Yeah. He could find a profit anywhere," Frank muttered.

"But where, though? What sort of things?" Ianto gave a half-smile of comprehension .

"You think one of the work sites might hold the energy conductor?"

"Exactly. Anywhere specific, Frank, anything stand out, a pet project or something?"

"Mainly building that." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the Empire State Building. Ianto followed Martha's gaze, and pinched the bridge of his nose in consternation.

"A secret base hidden underneath a major landmark. Why the hell didn't I think of that sooner?"

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><p>They were a motley little crew that found themselves in a cramped wooden lift. There had been a brief altercation wherein Frank stubbornly insisted on accompanying them for the sake of avenging Solomon, and Tallulah was hell-bent on rescuing Laszlo. Having ironed out a few ground rules, (Ianto narrowed it down to don't wander off and don't die, figuring that if they never asked questions or touched anything, they would get nothing done,) the four of them set out for the entrance to the Empire State Building. Loitering before the doors, which were cordoned off and guarded by two nightwatchmen, Ianto held them back and turned to Martha, holding up the paper.<p>

"Does this show anything?"

"Ianto Jones, 007, License to Kill?" She raised her eyebrows at him bemusedly. His cheeks tinged a delicate shade of pink but he allowed himself a slight half-smirk before explaining.

"At Torchwood they trained people to raise mental barriers. Psychic paper looks blank to me unless I'm deliberately trying to read it; I didn't know if that would affect my ability to influence it in reverse."

"And..." He ignored her little snicker.

"And it works perfectly. Come on."

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><p>"I've always wanted to go the the Empire State. Never imagined it quite like this, though," Martha mused.<p>

"Where are we headed, anyway?" Frank asked, shifting from the November chill that pervaded everywhere.

"To the top where they're still building." Tallulah had her eyes narrowed.

"How come those guys just let us through? How's that thing work?" Martha pulled out the paper, flipping it over and passing it so they could see.

"It's psychic paper. Shows them whatever you want them to think."

"A free pass to all the places we're not allowed to go. According to this, we're two engineers, an architect, and a health and safety inspector," Ianto continued. Martha glanced at him.

"Health and Safety?" He shrugged.

"Old standby, apparently."

They located the nearest thing to the top floor, still with scaffolding and sheeting, poring over blueprints and floor plans in a life-or-death game of 'spot the difference.' Frank kept lookout by the door while Tallulah was brooding near the open scaffold, gazing out across the horizon.

"Gotcha! Look!" Martha's voice rang out suddenly. Ianto darted to her side as she pointed out, "There, on the mast, those little lines? They're new, they've added something, see?" Ianto shifted another sheet of paper.

"Look, they've detailed the corresponding panels, they look exactly like the slats of the metal armor."

"Dalekanium," Martha declared firmly. Ianto ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully. _Oh, picking up the Doctor's habits? Well, isn't that just bloody fabulous._

"So why have they nailed Dalekanium to the top of the Empire State Building?" he wondered aloud. He stood and began pacing briskly, retracing the tunnels in his head that had been committed to memory on autopilot. "The laboratory. Great big genetic laboratory, suppose it's hundreds of floors exactly beneath us -" Martha picked up the thought process and continued it as Frank re-entered the room and Tallulah watched them with interest.

"- and the mast is the energy conductor, the Dalekanium is in place there so the lightening or something can transfer it all throughout the building, down and down into the laboratory -"

"- assuming that their metal casing contains actual DNA, which is hardly the most unlikely thing I've heard all day-"

"- and the final experiment involves a massive DNA transfer dependent on the Dalekanium."

_Ding!_ Their faces lit up as the lift doors slid open to reveal Laszlo and a grim, skinny Time Lord.

"Doctor!"

"First floor, perfumery!" the Doctor remarked casually as Laszlo and Tallulah ran forward and embraced. Ianto hid his display of utter relief as he promptly began to fill him in.

"There's Dalekanium on the mast, we think they're going to try and transfer the energy to the laboratory."

"And it's good to see you too, by the way," Martha grinned.

"Oh, come here." He crushed them both into a tight hug. Martha giggled and Ianto squeezed his shoulder in a nonverbal expression of _'thank god you're alive and you'd better stay that way.'_ He wondered briefly if he'd let his psychic barriers down when the Doctor replied, "Out in one piece, as promised." He broke the hug and hoisted his guard back up.

"Well, someone's got to fly that bloody box of yours, Doctor." Before the Time Lord could reply in turn, the lift doors gave another cheerful _ding_ and glided shut.

"No, no, no no _nonono!_ See, never waste time with a hug." He smacked the doors in frustration after a futile attempt to sonic the lift into reverse. "It's a deadlock seal. I can't stop it."

"Where's it going?"

"Right down to the Daleks. And they're not going to leave us alone up here. What's the time?" Frank glanced at an ornate clock.

"11:15."

"Six minutes to go. I've got to remove the Dalekanium before the gamma radiation hits." His speech was practically incoherent with speed, worked into a squirrel-like frenzy of agitation.

"_Gamman_ radiation? What the heck is that?" Tallulah asked, mystified. The Doctor raced past her to the edge of the scaffolding, in a classic demonstration of 'you're not keeping up and I haven't got time for this.'

"Oh, that's high. That's very- _blimey_, that's high."

"Nice to see your observational skills are as sharp as ever."

"And we've got to go even higher. That's the mast up there, look." Martha pointed up the ladder. "There's three pieces of Dalekanium at the base. We've got to get 'em off."

"That's not 'we,' that's just me." Ianto glared at him. "Don't give me that, you're gonna have your hands full, anyway. I'm sorry, you lot, but you've got to fight."

* * *

><p>They gathered makeshift weapons in the form of sledgehammers and scaffolding pipes and rallied around the ascending lift. Laszlo had tried to keep the girls off the frontlines and ended up collapsing.<p>

"One man down and we ain't even started yet," Frank muttered uneasily.

"It's not looking good, Frank."

"Nope."

"We're going to get slaughtered," Ianto continued. Oh, that came out far too matter-of-fact, considering he was receiving Incredulous Look #46, which was something along the lines of 'we're about to die horribly, why the hell are you so calm about this.' (It was closely related to Incredulous Look #45, or 'stop making puns while the world is ending, you git.') Thunder boomed behind them and Martha whipped around.

"Wait a minute..." Her face cleared. "Lightening!"

The three of them ran metal scaffolding poles along the length of the room as Tallulah continued to croon over Laszlo, before rounding on them and yelling shrilly, "What the hell are you clowns doin'?"

"Even if the Doctor stops the Dalekanium, this place is still gonna get hit," Martha explained breathlessly. "Great big bolt of lightening, electricity all down this building. Connect this to the lift and - " Ianto skidded across the floor in one of the wheeled chairs until he slid it into place by the girls. He vibrated in place, buzzing and shuddering, miming an electric shock. "Exactly." Martha shot him a stern look and pointed him out of the chair. He leaped to his feet with mock contrition as they placed the last metal poles in a V facing the lift.

"I've got it all piped up to the scaffolding outside," Frank called as they pulled into a huddle by Tallulah and Laszlo.

"Brilliant, come here, Frank and sit in the middle and don't touch anything metal." They all clung to each other as the lift approached floor by floor.

80...

90...

100...

_Ding!_

Electric blue light flooded through the room, glaring off of the lines of the columns and geometric tiles in a nightmarish maze, crackling like ice and fire along the poles. Unearthly shrieks split the room as the strike seemed to last forever.

Then it was over. The squad of six or seven pig-men barely made it past the lift doors. Martha was the first to stand, to run towards the piles of smoking flesh. Her posture sagged with an unseen weight, unheeded by Frank, who laughed and clapped her around the shoulders.

"They used to be like Laszlo," she whispered. "They were people and I killed 'em." Ianto shook his head, gripping her shoulder.

"No, you didn't."

"The Daleks killed them, long ago," Laszlo added.

"Whatever made them human was destroyed ages ago, and that bit of lightning saved everyone human in this room." Martha stared at Ianto. He groaned. "And guess who doesn't happen to fit either category?"

* * *

><p>The ascent to the summit of the Empire State Building was nerve wracking and arduous and utterly freezing. Ianto felt his blood run even colder when they found the sonic screwdriver rattling innocuously across one of the platforms. He and Martha barely dared look at each other, not wanting to see the dread in the other's face. They focused on climbing higher and higher, each rung biting into their fingers and the wind threatening to pluck them off and toss them into oblivion. He nearly lost his grip as Martha let slip a panicked cry.<p>

"_Doctor!"_ They hauled themselves onto the uppermost platform as she knelt beside the Doctor's prone figure. He was incredibly pale, face slick with sweat, one arm dangling over the side. She shook him gently, nearly crying. "He's still breathing. Doctor? Look what we found?" She waved the screwdriver half-heartedly as Frank put a hand on her shoulder. "You're gettin' careless," she admonished the unresponsive Time Lord plaintively. She held her fingers to his neck for a pulse, but they were to frozen to feel anything. The Doctor stirred.

"Ugghh, my head." Ianto sat back against the mast, realizing he'd leaned into smooth cold orbs of metal. Martha gave a shaky, relieved laugh.

"Hiya."

"Hiii," he groaned. "You survived, then."

"Just about."

"Can't help but notice there's still Dalekanium attached to the base," Ianto said hoarsely. The Doctor was alive and in good spirits, more or less. Time to return to the end of the world.

* * *

><p>They regrouped at the base of the ladder where they'd left Lazlo and Tallulah, who'd managed to coax Lazlo upright and back into action as the Doctor outlined something resembling a plan.<p>

"The Daleks will have gone straight to a war footing. They'll be using the sewer system, spreading their soldiers out underneath Manhattan."

"How do we stop them?" Laszlo asked.

"There's only one chance. I got in the way. That gamma strike went zapping though me first." The Doctor turned on his heel and swished across the room.

"But what does that mean?" Martha hurried after him, but he ignored the question.

"We need to draw fire. Before they can attack New York, I need to face them. Where do I draw them out?" He halted in the middle of the room and began muttering to himself. Ianto didn't think his hair could spike any more than it was from the lightening strike, but the Doctor raked his fingers through it and promptly proved him wrong. Any minute now he would probably yell something out loud, perhaps that the Daleks were thick. "Think, think, think, think. We need some sort of space, somewhere safe, somewhere out of the way. _Tallulah_!" He wheeled around with the wide, maniacal eyes and wild hand gestures. Oh, predictability.

"That's me. Three Ls and an H."

"The theatre! It's right above them, and, what, it's gone midnight? Can you get us inside?"

"Don't see why not." He spun around again, now grinning.

"Is there another lift?"

"We came up in the service elevator," Martha offered.

"That'll do. Allons-y!"

* * *

><p><strong>Looks like I've got a running theme of stuff that goes <em>ding<em>, from segways to bikes to lift doors... god I can't wait for Blink and the timey-wimey detector. Also, yay for the Exploding Brain Chair!**


	20. Evolution of the Daleks: Pt 3

**I'm experimenting with flashbacks, which are in bold italic. Giving it a try for this chapter, and if it doesn't work at all I won't make a habit of it.**

* * *

><p>"This should do it, 'ere we go!" The Doctor shrugged his coat off his shoulders and made to throw it willy-nilly across the seats of the rich, cold, red-and-gold theater when Ianto caught it gently and folded it over his arm. His actions weren't lost on Tallulah as she followed behind with a knowing look in her eyes. She turned to the Doctor, who was pulsing away in a frenzy.<p>

"There ain't nothin' more creepy than a theatre in the dark. Listen, Doctor, I know you got a thing for showtunes, but there's a time and place, huh?" She turned her attention to Laszlo, who collapsed into one of the seats, and the Doctor ignored her question. Ianto sidled next to Martha and murmured, "What's she mean by a thing for showtunes?"

"Same conclusion I jumped to." She gave him a meaningful look. Ianto frowned.

"Wait... oh, for god's sakes, it's 1930." Martha shrugged.

"Yeah, well, she's in showbiz." Ianto made to roll his eyes, and stopped himself.

"I'll complain when we're finished saving the world." She nodded.

"Good plan. Doctor, what're you doing?"

"If the Daleks are going to war, they'll wanna find their number one enemy. I'm just telling them where I am." He raised the sonic towards the ceiling as it blipped vigorously.

"Wonderful, we're bringing them right to us," Ianto muttered. "Well, now I'm complaining."

"I said I'm telling them where _I_ am. You five, you need to go." He jerked his thumb in the direction of the door. Oh, like that was going to happen.

"Doctor -" Martha began.

"I said complaining, not going," Ianto scowled, sitting in the nearest seat.

"I'm telling you to go! Frank can take you back to Hooverville."

"And I'm telling you I'm not going!" Martha retorted.

"Martha, that's an order."

"Who are you, then, some sort of Dalek?" The remark was biting, though apt. Martha was only trying to do the same as he was, but her approach wasn't cutting any ice with the Doctor's 'Time Lord knows best' attitude. Ianto pinched the bridge of his nose as they stared each other down.

"Would the two of you please just -" His lecture was cut off and he shot to his feet when the doors flew open with a loud crash and stiff, pale people with Dalek blasters marched into the room like automatons, flanking the rows of seats, trapping them.

"Humans... with Dalek DNA?" Martha whispered. Frank tried to lunge out of the row as the Doctor held him back.

"It's all right. Just stay calm. Don't antagonize them."

"Hypocrite," Ianto muttered darkly.

"But what about the Dalek masters? Where are they?" Laszlo asked urgently. On perfect cue, the stage exploded. They dove behind the seats to avoid the shower of shrapnel and debris, as two metal Daleks materialized, with Dalek Sec in chains between them.

"_The Doc-tor will stand be-fore the Daleks."_ The Doctor rose and advanced, balancing like a cat on the backs of the chairs.

_"You will die, Doctor. It is the beginning of a new age."_

_"Planet Earth will become New Skaro."_

"Oh, and what a world. With anything just the _slightest_ bit different ground into the dirt." His lecture in the laboratory had been brassy, full of swagger. He'd been genuinely intrigued by the Daleks' experiment. He couldn't afford to hope that it would work, that it could turn his oldest foes, the scourge of the universe and all of time, into something wholesome. But he did. He let himself hope. And the despair, when it should hardly have surprised him, nearly crushed him. The devastation, resentment, and bitterness were overwhelming; he wanted to end this, and if he went down with them, so be it. "That's Dalek Sec. Don't you remember? The cleverest Dalek ever and look what you've done to him. Is that your new empire? Hmm? Is that the foundation for a whole new civilization?"

"My Daleks…" Dalek Sec gave a ragged gasp. " - just understand this. If you choose death and destruction, then death and destruction will choose you."

"_Incorrect. We will always survive."_

_"Now we will destroy our greatest enemy, the Doctor."_

"But he can help you."

_"The Doctor must die."_

"No! I beg you, don't!" Dalek Sec staggered upright.

_"EXTERMINATE!"_ Ianto was sure that that final beam was intended for the Doctor. Instead, it caught the Human Dalek squarely, silhouetting him in sickly blue-green, skeleton and skull with a single eye-socket. Dalek Sec screamed and shuddered, sprawling in a heap upon the stage. The Doctor displayed no hint of shock; merely scorn and contempt.

"Your own leader. The only creature who might have led you out of the darkness and you destroyed him." He gave the automaton army of Dalek-humans a scathing look askance. "Do you see what they did? Huh? You see what a Dalek really is? If I'm gonna die, let's give the new boys a shot. What do you think, eh? The Dalek-Humans. Their first blood," he spat, spreading his arms wide. "Go on, baptize them."

_"Dalek-Humans, take aim." _The automaton army cocked the guns and lowered them, holding them all in the crossfire. They say that when you're about to die, your life flashes before your eyes. Ianto had spent his past week in varying states of near death and mortal peril, and found this to be occasionally true, though somewhat inconsistent. At this point in time, his mind locked onto one specific memory.

**_Bruised, exhausted, and covered in spiderwebs, he stood beside the runaway bride as a gargantuan red spider reared beside the black abyss._**

**_"AT ARMS!" she roared, as the line of robots primed their weapons. __"TAKE AIM! AND..." _**

What are you waiting for? Give the command!"

_"EXTERMINATE!"_ the Dalek screamed. Martha gasped and buried her face in Ianto's shoulder. And nothing happened.

**"_Relax." __The pilot-fish bent at the middle and slumped, motionless._**

**"_How did you do that?" Donna demanded._**

"_OBEY! Dalek-humans will obey!" _Ianto lifted his head hopefully.

"They're not firing," Martha whispered. "What's 'e done?"

_"YOU WILL OBEY! EXTERMINATE!" _But one word, flat, expressionless, was uttered from the first Dalek-human in the row, and it echoed through the suddenly silent theater.

"Why."

_"Daleks do not question orders!"_

"But, why?"

_"You will stop this!"_

"But... why?"

_"You must not question!"_

"But... you are not our master. And we... we are not Daleks."

"No, you're not," the Doctor said firmly. "And you never will be." A hint of his insolence crept into his voice as he addressed the metal Daleks. "Sorry. I got in the way of the lightening strike. Time Lord DNA got all mixed up. Just that little bit of freedom."

_**"Guess what I've got, Donna? Pockets!"**_

_"If they will not obey, then they must die!"_ The rebel Dalek fell in a beam of energy.

"GET DOWN!" the Doctor yelled. The theater was lit in a blaze of bolts as the stiff, pale, human-Time Lord-Daleks fired upon their former masters, who retaliated with their intermittent cries of "_EXTERMINATE!"_ There were two distinct explosions, one after the other. And then it was over.

The Doctor stood first and ran to one of the hybrids.

"It's all right! It's all right. It's all right. You did it. You're free." Just when his features were about to alight with a hopeful grin, a shrill wail echoed through the theater as the hybrids clutched their hands over their ears and collapsed, faces wrought with agony. "_Nooo!_" Martha ran to the Doctor's side as he knelt beside the first hybrid.

"What happened? What was that?" Ianto approached them, watching the Doctor cautiously.

"They killed them," the Doctor whispered. "Rather than let them live, they killed them. An entire species." "_Genocide!"_ he hissed suddenly, teeth bared, practically shaking.

"Only two of the Daleks were destroyed," Laszlo said quietly. "One of the Dalek masters must still be alive."

"Oh yes." The Doctor became very still, then rose slowly to his feet. His eyes were black and empty, deadened with terror and nothing and infinity. "In the whole universe... just one."

* * *

><p>Given a chance for a reprieve, Martha had taken the opportunity to check Laszlo over. As the Doctor retrieved his coat and disappeared down the ladder in the props room, Ianto pulled out his stopwatch and let it tick for an agonizing thirty seconds. Then he followed.<p>

He kept his footsteps light, breathing shallow, keeping the brooding, billowy figure within eyesight. He wasn't worried about getting lost in the tunnels, but was certainly unnerved by the idea of how the Doctor would react to being followed. And he was in even more dread of what the Doctor might do if pushed too far. He'd had that look in his eyes; so ancient and haunted with the blood of a thousand races and planets, and the utter despair that shadowed his memories.

_**"That place was flooding and burning and they were dying and you just stood there like... I don't know. A stranger."**_

"Funny thing about Time Lords." Clear but expressionless, the Doctor's voice echoed like a bell in the cold silence of the tunnels. "Physiologically, they have - had - far superior senses to humans. In everything, overall. Fantastic hearing; could hear a spider spinning a web from eight rooms away. If it was thinking too loudly." He came to a halt, but didn't look round. Just waited, and sighed. "That means you can come out now. Olly-olly-oxen-free." Ianto peered around the corner, expression mildly resigned. The Doctor gazed at him searchingly for a moment as he approached and fell into step. No guilt, defensiveness, or justification in his face; no confrontation or mistrust. Just ever-so-slightly put out at being revealed. He gave the barest twitch of a smile. "Not bad, though. No human would have figured you were there." Not a fidget out of him. "Although... you do that a lot. Hiding in plain sight." Ianto's shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly, and he pressed on. "Double-edged sword, invisibility. It's a secret of survival, it's a way to watch people, see what makes them tic-k. People don't expect things of you. You're the last to get noticed by a potential enemy. It's safe." The Doctor stared along the length of the tunnel, watching him shrewdly from the corner of his eye. "And it's lonely, too. I'nit?" No dice. Ianto was utterly closed off.

"What would a spider be thinking too loudly about?" the Welshman asked, a little coolly. The Doctor shrugged.

"Diabolical plot for world annihilation?"

"Figures."

"Yeah," the Doctor sighed. There was more to be said between them, but now really wasn't the best time. He decided not to push it; just as well, since the laboratory was around the next corner. "I'm going in. Try to stay out of the line of fire, would you?" Ianto just looked at him, and the Time Lord sighed. "I'll behave, I promise."

They were met by the harsh glare of the laboratory lights, which threw off Ianto's sight. He hovered at the doorway to allow his eyes to adjust from the darkness of the tunnels as the Doctor stared down the last Dalek, still hooked up to computer wires.

"Now what?" the Time Lord demanded flatly.

_"You will be ex-termin-ated."_

"Yeah, yeah yeah yeah, just think about it, Dalek - what was your name?"

_"Dalek Caan._"

"Dalek Caan." He put his hands in his pockets and advanced. Ianto stole behind him, fingers threaded together behind his back to keep them from twitching. The Doctor continued, "Your entire species has been wiped out. And now the Cult of Skaro has been eradicated. Leaving only you." Dalek Caan adjusted its eyestalk and headpiece in minute, jerky movements; practically fidgeting uncomfortably under the Doctor's heavy stare. "Right now you're facing the only man in the universe who might show you some compassion. 'Cause I've just seen one genocide. I won't cause another." The cold silence in the room was suffocating. ""Caan…" His voice was barely a whisper. "Let me help you. What do you say?"

"_Emergency Temporal Shift!_" His nerve long since worn away, Ianto shot out of his skin at the Dalek's jarring command. The wires fell and Caan vanished in a glare of white light. The Doctor lunged forward with a frustrated yell, echoed by Martha's frantic cries of "Doctor!" as she and Tallulah half supported, half dragged Laszlo into the lab. Laszlo's breathing was labored and his steps halting, eventually collapsing against Tallulah as she cradled him by the shoulders, Martha kneeling in front of him as the Doctor approached.

"It's his heart, it's racing like mad. I've never seen anything like it."

"What is it, Doctor?" Tallulah wailed. "What's the matter with him? He says he can't breathe, what is it?"

"It's time, sweetheart," Laszlo gasped.

"What d'you mean, time? What are you talking about?"

"None of the slaves …survive for long. Most of them only live a few weeks." The Doctor laced his fingers together, resting his chin on his hands and gazing at them intently. "I was lucky. I held on 'cause I had you. But now…I'm dyin', Tallulah." Ianto's heart sank. He'd hoped, he'd truly hoped that Laszlo and Tallulah could have made it through together; they didn't deserve to go through what happened to him and Lisa.

"No, you're not!" she sobbed. "Not now, not after all this! Doctor, can't you do something?" The Doctor lifted his head, eyes caught between earnest sorrow and something unreadable, with a liquid sheen, just fighting back tears.

"Oh, Tallulah with three Ls and an H..." he whispered, voice nearly cracking. "Just you watch me." He was up like a shot before Ianto had even registered his words, shrugging off his coat and tossing it to the Welshman, who caught it by reflex. "What do I need? Oh, I don't know. How about a great big genetic laboratory?" Martha and Ianto exchanged delighted looks as the Doctor spun around brightly, tilting his head like a puppy. "Oh look, I've got one." He grabbed a cart and began stirring a liquid blue solution. "Lazlo, just you hold on. There's been too many deaths today; way too many people have died. Brand new creatures and wise old men and age-old enemies!" He darted about as the beaker hissed and steamed. His voice raised to levels of manic enthusiasm. "And I'm tellin' you, I'm tellin' you right now, I am not having one more death! Got that? Not one!" He lit a kerosene burner with the sonic screwdriver, voice still thick with emotion, as the showgirl gazed at him, wide-eyed and hopeful. "Tallulah, out of the way." He yanked a stethoscope from out of his deceptively empty looking pockets and clamped it around his ears. "The Doctor is in!"

* * *

><p>After a tense and anxious all-nighter, the unlikely band of heroes stood in the sunlight of Central Park, waiting for Frank to return from Hooverville with a verdict. Bundled in an overcoat and low-brimmed fedora, Lazslo stood arm-in-arm with Tallulah as the young man came striding across the grassy green turf.<p>

"Well I talked to 'em," Frank began. "And I told 'em what Solomon would've said, and I reckon I shamed one or two of 'em."

"What did they say?" the Doctor asked, as Tallulah looked between them with wide, apprehensive eyes. Frank smiled.

"They said yes." With a gasp of relief, the couple hugged each other as Frank went on, "They'll give you a home, Lazslo." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I mean, uh... don't imagine people ain't gonna stare. I can't promise you'll be at peace but, in the end, that is what Hooverville is for; people who ain't got nowhere else."

"Thank you," Lazslo said sincerely. "I - I can't thank you enough." Tallulah beamed at him and they embraced again. Ianto gripped Frank gently by the shoulder.

"Do you know, I think Solomon would have been very proud of you," Ianto told him quietly. Frank glanced between him and the unusual couple with a wistful smile.

"You think?"

"Definitely," he nodded. "Good luck, Frank."

"Same to you."

"D'you reckon it's gonna work, those two?" Martha asked as they gazed back across the Manhattan skyline, while Ianto gazed with relief at the faded blue box that was home.

"Dunno," the Doctor mused. "Anywhere else in the universe, I might worry about them, but New York, that's what this city's good at. 'Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses,' and maybe the odd pig-slave-Dalek-mutant-hybrid, too." Ianto cracked a half smile as Martha laughed softly.

"The pig and the showgirl."

"The pig and the showgirl," the Doctor concurred, grinning.

"You were brilliant, Doctor," she said earnestly. "You saved his life."

"Yeah. Reckon I've earned the right to that title, eh?" He nudged her goodnaturedly as she grinned and turned back towards the TARDIS. The Doctor glanced over his shoulder at Ianto's staid figure. "Wish I could have more days like that." An odd spasm flitted across Ianto's face, barely noticable. He lifted his eyes to meet the Doctor's and nodded, almost imperceptibly, and in that moment said everything. Acknowledgement, understanding, acceptance; that he knew the Doctor wanted to save Lisa and couldn't and that he was sorry. And it was time to fly once more.

"Do you suppose we'll ever see Dalek Caan again?" he asked softly as they stepped through the doors.

"Oh yes. One day..."

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry I'm not updating as frequently; life's about to get seriously busy. I've got a couple of in-betweeners and half of the Lazarus Experiment pre-written, but with an upcoming move and NanoWrimo, I won't be able to post as consistently. I'll try to stay ahead of the game somewhat, cause that's what the pre-written chapters are for, but please bear with me for a bit. Meantime, let me know what you think! <strong>


	21. Evolution of the Daleks: Epilogue

**A break in the action. Next chapter will also be a TARDIS moment.**

* * *

><p>Evolution of the Daleks: Epilogue<p>

As soon as they set foot inside the TARDIS, Ianto vanished. One moment he was standing by a column, and then Martha watched the Doctor set the controls, looked up, and he was gone. The Doctor winced, ran a hand through his hair, and motioned her to follow down a corridor.

The time rotor continued to piston and bathe the room in aqua green, and Martha asked, "Shouldn't you be steering or something?"

"We'll be alright. I've just let her drift into the time vortex, she can stay there for a bit. Come on." He headed through an archway, and she nearly walked into him when he stopped. "Huh. Thought if he'd be anywhere, he'd be here." 'Here' was a kitchen. One with a stove, and a table, and an oven. There was a kettle, a coffee maker, lots of wooden cabinets and a stainless steel sink. It was spacious and comfortable looking, with cushions on the chairs and yellow sticky notes on the fridge covered in spirals and circles.

"It's very... Earth," Martha noted, leaning against the edge of the table.

"Tend to have humans on board," the Doctor shrugged, filling the kettle. "Everything's new and different and exciting, but sometimes you need that bit of familiarity. Otherwise, you end up feeling a bit lost." He puttered around the cupboards getting mugs and canisters of tea leaves. "Sugar?"

"Please. Can I help?"

"Nah, tell you what, though. What I said about hugs was rubbish and you should ignore it. C'mere." He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. "Hugs are never a waste of time."

"Mm. Maybe better for after saving the world, though, huh?" she murmured into the fabric of his jacket.

"Yeah, probably." They stayed there until kettle whistled and the Doctor moved away to brew the tea. "Speaking of hugs, I'm thinking you might go and give Ianto one?"

"I might do, yeah." She raised an eyebrow. "If you tell me what you just put in his drink."

"You don't miss a trick, eh? Powdered Greville leaves, 's a flower on Tommarine. Perfectly harmless, _well,_ mostly harmless, I mean, it's compatible with human physiology. Mild sedative. Icky in large doses." Martha frowned. "Tommarine's a human colony, so Greville was just one of the native plants that they used as a substitute for tea. Often gave it to fussy toddlers before bed."

She smiled. "I'm telling him you said that."

"Well, if the cap fits..." the Doctor ribbed back gently, handing her two of the mugs and taking a sip from his own. "He has nightmares."

Martha nodded sadly. "I'm not surprised." She looked up. "Do you?"

His eyes darted and he sniffed, scrunching up one side of his face. "Nah. I don't sleep."

"No?"

"Mm. Don't need to. Time Lord physiology. Might need an hour or three every now and again, more if there's some kind of trauma involved -" he cut himself off. "But he's human, and he won't talk about his nightmares, and he's wearing himself down. Didn't even get on my case when I called him 'Yan', and he hates that. And I actually do have to get back and steer before we bump into any chronovores. Also, you're a doctor, you've got a bedside manner."

"You're a Doctor. You don't?"

He quirked an odd little smile. "I've been informed that it's not much to speak of." Rose had expressed this pointedly when she'd picked up a cold after their time in Scotland. All of space and time and there was no cure for the common cold anywhere. She bore his fussing with little patience. It was hardly his fault they had such funny little immune systems... "Off you go, I'll go make sure we're on course, and then find you somewhere to kip."

The TARDIS hummed Martha along to Ianto's room, easing the door open for her. The room was spare and tidy, with midnight blue walls and plush silver carpet. Ianto was curled on the bed, practically huddled into the wall with his arms around his knees and his head buried. He had traded his suit for a white tee-shirt and pajama bottoms. He froze up when he felt Martha ease onto the bed next to him, and kept his head tucked into his arms, breathing raggedly.

"Hey, you. Brought you some tea," Martha said gently. The TARDIS hummed in concurrence, and eventually he uncurled and stared back with red, haunted eyes, shadowed with dark circles. She pressed the mug of tea into his hands and rubbed a mindless circle on his back as he sipped quietly. A framed photograph on the nightstand caught her eye, resting on his journal next to a shimmery scarf. He followed her gaze to a woman in a magenta shirt with short, dark hair and and chocolate skin. She was sitting on the grass in a park, and Ianto's head was in her lap, gazing up adoringly. His innocent, carefree smile was a bitter contrast to the shattered look on the real Ianto's face.

"That was Lisa."

"She was your girlfriend?"

Ianto made a murmur of confirmation. "Would've proposed. Was going to, and then... cybermen. Daleks. Bloody Torchwood..." he trailed off, trying to keep his voice steady. "Two weeks."

"Sorry?"

"Or something like that, anyway," Ianto mumbled. "Maybe more. Hard to keep track. I'm usually good at keeping track." He shifted his head to look at her. "She died at Canary Wharf. It's been two, three weeks? Bloody time-travel."

"Ohh... you mean for you, that only just happened? Oh, Ianto... did the Daleks... did they kill her?"

"As good as." He scrubbed his eyes against his sleeve. "They - their fault. And Torchwood's. We were so_ stupid._"

"I don't understand."

"I wasn't expecting to see the Daleks again, not so soon," Ianto went on heedlessly. "I thought he got rid of them, _he _thought he got rid of them. I practically lost it down there. I panicked."

"That was panicking?" she said softly, holding him a little tighter. "That didn't look like panicking. After everything you've been through, and even still you remembered the way out of the tunnels. And you were going to follow him when he left. Right after they'd gone and shot Solomon. And then you actually did, when he went to find the last one. Nearly gave me a heart attack when I saw you'd gone as well. But I thought you were brilliant."

"So were you. The lightning bit, especially."

A shadow crossed Martha's face. "You think?"

"Bit inspired. And we would have died if you hadn't. And they were already dead. And then where would the Doctor be?"

"Yeah," she murmured. He squeezed her hand and she nodded weakly. "I still can't believe we climbed to the top of the Empire State Building."

"Hell of a view, eh?"

She smiled. "Can't believe the Doctor survived that."

"Third time... or was it fourth? He keeps getting electrocuted." Ianto sighed heavily, the sedative beginning to take hold. "Needs a talking-to, that one." His shoulders started to relax.

"Maybe later, yeah? You should get some rest."

"Mmmhmm. Probably should." Martha withdrew her arm and tucked him under the covers, pulling them up over his shoulders as he began to mumble, accent thick and voice sluggish.

She smiled fondly. Already she'd become very attached to both of them. Leaving wasn't going to be easy. "Sleep well, Ianto."

She slipped back into the console room. The Doctor wasn't even fiddling; just staring at the walls, brooding darkly. She wasn't going to bother him then, but he turned his head and gave her a slight smile. It didn't really reach his eyes, but at least indicated that he was approachable. Ish.

"He doing alright?"

Martha nodded. "Sleeping now. Bit shell-shocked, I suppose, but rest should do him good. He's awfully thin, though. Both of you, you need to look after yourselves, you've barely eaten a thing since what, 1599?" She frowned. "God, that sounds weird when you say it."

"Tenses," the Doctor agreed. "There's a room for you, down the corridor, left turn, fourth on the right. You should go get some rest too."

"Cheers." She nodded again and ducked off to the corridors as the Doctor resumed his troubled meditation.


	22. The Lazarus Experiment: Prologue

**My sincerest apologies for the long delay. I've been consumed with NanoWrimo and gave this the back seat, but I've let that slide a bit and I'm hoping to post Lazarus Experiment pt 1 soon after this. Don't ask me what soon means. Sooner than this one took, anyway.**

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><p>Ianto reappeared in the console room some hours later, clutching a mug of hot coffee, poised, immaculate in a pale pink shirt and navy blue striped tie under a starched suit jacket. He gave a slight nod and settled against his usual spot on the rails as the Doctor 'tinkered.'<p>

The Doctor looked at him a little more closely; his eyes had still had dark circles in spite of rest, his skin was unnaturally pale, and that suit was hiding an entirely too-thin frame. He turned back to the console and said, very softly, "I'm sorry." Ianto wasn't entirely sure at first whether he had spoken. He scrutinized the Doctor, who tightened a bolt and was pointedly not looking at him.

"For what?" Ianto said levelly. "Standing in front of your mortal enemies and screaming at them to kill you? Twice? Getting hit by gamma radiation on a glorified lightening conductor on top of the Empire State Building? Having all of the self-preservation of a squirrel on the motorway?" The Doctor sat up to face him, and scratched the back of his neck a little awkwardly as Ianto concluded his utterly placid rebuke. "I should bloody well hope so."

"When's the last time you've eaten?" Ianto blinked.

"Ummm... Elephant Tavern, the morning we left 1599?"

"Linearly, more than 36 hours." _Whoops. Had it been that long? _

"Yes, I suppose."

"And you didn't sleep at all 'til a few hours ago. A bit in Elizabethan England, and that's about it, yeah?"

"Your point?"

"I'm sorry, 'cause I promised Donna I'd look after you."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, that's... that's very - " Ianto wasn't entirely sure what to make of that. "Donna also said you needed someone to stop you. And not like what happened with the Racnoss." He risked a careful glance at the Doctor and continued quietly, "Martha and I were both trying to get you to stop and think and realize that offing yourself is a really, _really _bad idea."

"So you followed me every time I tried."

"At first you don't succeed..." Ianto sighed. The Doctor chuckled bitterly.

"I'm surprised, really. I mean, you, out of everybody. You've seen them before; you know what it feels like, when the Daleks are around; that sheer terror that everyone around you is going to die and there's nothing you can do. And yet there you were, every time, right in the thick of things." He shook his head slightly. "Huh. Never thought I'd get that from somebody who was in Torchwood."

"There were 800 people in Torchwood, Doctor, I would hope that any one of them could have changed their minds, given the chance."

"You think?" The Doctor's tone was genuine, not sarcastic. Ianto shrugged.

"They saw a threat, because they'd been practically indoctrinated with stories about you. That you were powerful, and dangerous, and distant. That the most fearsome creatures would turn and run from you. You were one of those things that they didn't understand, didn't try to understand." If they had taken the time to try... maybe they could have seen the hero, that's trying to protect our tiny little planet. The man that makes people better. Or, for that matter, the renegade who's seen too much and done too much, and still manages to act like an excitable child in a cosmic candy shop. One that wears converse trainers and sings Lion King songs and says random words just because it sounds nice, the way they roll off the tongue." The Doctor chuckled and poked two wires together, sparking them and singeing his fingers. He yelped, and stuck them in his mouth to relieve the burning. Ianto fought the fond smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Like that. If you were to lose that side, the one they couldn't see, then you'd only prove that they were right about you. And, consequences aside, there's nothing more infuriating, especially to the man that has to be right all the time." The Doctor grinned suddenly. More teeth than sparkle, but they were getting somewhere.

"So basically, I'm stuck with you following me around to make sure it doesn't happen." Ianto cocked an eyebrow.

"Got a problem with that?"

"I suppose it was too much to hope for that you actually enjoyed mucking about in all of space and time..."_ Oh, he got the boy to smile properly. They were getting somewhere._

"It is more fun when you're around," Ianto conceded. He took a sip of his coffee and sighed slightly, contemplative once more. "For a long time, I stopped believing... in heroes, and far off worlds, and flying, and life among the distant stars. Before Torchwood, even, though they didn't really help. I hardly believed in love until I met Lisa. And when you came along, it all came back; all that stuff I gave up as childhood fantasy. You, Martha, Will, the Face of Boe. Frank, Solomon, Laszlo and Tallulah; they're all proof that there's still something to those fairytale stories, that people like that really exist. Adventurers, storytellers, wise old men, tragic lovers... odd case that the latter two may be," he noted as an afterthought, before catching the Doctor's eye, and ducking his head. "Traveling with you - it gave me meaning again." The Doctor looked at him, eyes dark and glittering and knowing, and Ianto couldn't leave it there. "So if you step out of line once too often, we're going straight to Chiswick and getting Donna to smack some sense into you." The Time Lord smiled again, broadly and genuinely and clear as day. _Success._

"Oh, Jones, Ianto Jones," he said warmly. "We're gonna be just fine. You, me and Martha, yeah?" Ianto brightened.

"What... you think Martha can stay on?"

"Oh, I don't see why not. I'd wanted to give it another trip to test the waters, didn't think we'd end up finding... well, you know. She's a bit stubborn, but then, so are you. And she's alright, really; capable, resourceful... and the two of you make a decent team. Might be fun, having a team again. Smith and Jones and Jones... Smith and Joneses... huh. Anyway -" he cocked his head to the side and wiggled a lever.

"So you've traveled with more than one companion full-time?"

"Oh, yeah. Polly and Ben, Sarah-Jane and Harry, Nyssa and Tegan, Rose and..." he broke off, hesitated, and shrugged. Ianto waited sympathetically. One day, the wounds would mend. He knew the Doctor would need time before he could think of Rose with only fondness and without guilt and sorrow, just as he would with Lisa. "Well. Had a few teams, me and Rose. Adam wasn't up to scratch, he went home. Rose's friend Mickey stayed for a bit; he... left. Welllll, Mickey's in the parallel world, too, he's fine. And - before that there was Jack." His smile became utterly wistful, with a tell-tale hint of guilt. "Good bloke, Jack. Not so much to start, mind, but people can change. Incorrigible flirt, though. Bet Will would have liked him."

"What happened? Did he... did he die?" Ianto asked softly. The Time Lord grimaced.

"Something like that." Well, that was enlightening. Granted, it allowed for multiple possibilities. Death was a relative term. The Doctor shrugged and hopped to his feet. "Tell you what, though, soon as Martha's up and about we'll pop back to her place and get sorted. After that..."

"Hello, anywhere, anywhen." Ianto smiled and the TARDIS hummed. The universe was calling.

* * *

><p><strong>I kind of love this chapter, except that no matter how many times I tweaked it it always seemed too mushy. Still, I did want to cement a solid friendship between Yan and the Doctor. <strong>**Nano's been amazing but I've missed my spaceship boys... ****Hope you enjoyed this, and please review to tell me what you think. **


	23. The Lazarus Experiment: Pt 1

**I'm not entirely sure how to play out the gang's interactions with Martha's family. Obviously, the Doctor does a very good job at sticking his foot in his mouth, but Ianto's very keen about this sort of thing and would have the wherewithal to cover for them. So I'm not sure how that would affect Francine's decisions in the long run, I might let most of that happen 'offscreen.'**

**Warnings: Deviating from canon, James Bond jokes, Sherlock references, blond!Mycroft Holmes (Mark Gatiss = Mycroft = Lazarus) more Runaway Bride references, immaturity, and Ianto in a tuxedo *drools***

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><p>"There we go! Perfect landing!" the Doctor announced. "Which isn't easy in such a tight spot."<p>

"You should be used to tight spots by now," Martha returned, before smiling. "Where are we?"

"Fork in the road," he shrugged. She glanced at Ianto. She'd been pleased to see that he was in much better spirits following sleep and a proper meal. His expression was inscrutable, but his eyes had a cheerful glint to them. And he wasn't giving anything away. She smelled a conspiracy, but scampered down the ramp, stopping at the doors to shoot them another curious look. "No place like it," the Doctor sighed. He and Ianto exchanged a quick look before following her out into a colorful little flat, now incredibly cramped with the TARDIS. They didn't have to see Martha's face to sense her obvious disappointment.

"Home? You took me home?"

"Back to the morning after we left," the Doctor remarked matter-of-factly. "So you've only been gone about 12 hours. No time at all, really." He started nosing around, glancing at photos, as Ianto slouched gently against the TARDIS.

"But all the stuff we've done—Shakespeare, New New York, old New York?"

"Yep, all in one night—relatively speaking. Everything should be just as it was—books, CDs..." he tugged a pair of underwear off of the clothes rack. "Laundry." Mortified, Martha snatched it back.

"Doctor!" Ianto shook his head sternly. Suddenly tired of always having to be the parent, he snagged a rubber band from the desk and launched it at the Time Lord, nailing him between the eyes.

"Oi!" The Doctor rubbed his forehead with a wounded expression. Martha smirked and Ianto folded his arms smugly. "Anyway... so we were thinking that -" He was promptly cut off by the phone ringing, followed by a recording.

_"Martha, are you there? Pick it up, will you?"_

"It's Mum, it'll wait."

"_All right then, pretend that you're out if you like."_ They grinned at each other. _"I was only calling to say that your sister's on TV. On the news of all things. Just thought you might be interested." _Martha's eyebrows shot up and she switched on the television. An elderly man in a suit was holding a press conference, with a professional looking young woman standing at his side.

"How could Tish end up on the news?" Martha wondered.

_"The details are top secret — But I can tell you that tonight, I will demonstrate a device…"_

"She's got a new job. PR for some research lab."

_"…with the push of a single button, I will change what it means to be human." _

Ianto groaned inwardly, but was surprised to see Martha switch off the television and brush it off.

"Sorry, you were saying?"

The Doctor tore his eyes from the blank screen and shrugged. "Oh, I dunno. Big event tonight, research lab, sounds like a new adventure; what d'you say we go check it out? Drop in on your sister while we're at it?"

Martha's eyes widened eagerly, but she stopped herself, and shook her head. "No. Sorry, I don't know if that's a good idea."

Ianto's heart sank. He wasn't incredibly surprised; while she'd been game for their risky exploits, one could get easily put off by constant kidnappings and deaths and near deaths. Not to mention she still had a life, studies, responsibilities. Still, despite having only known her for a few days, he quite enjoyed having her around.

"What do you mean? I thought you liked this."

Martha cocked her head to the side with a knowing half-smile. "I'm not thick, I know why we're here. You said one trip, and one trip only. Okay, it sort of escalated. But if you're going to drop me back home, you can't yank my chain and say 'one more adventure.' It's not fair. I don't want to be just a passenger anymore. Someone you take along for a treat. If that's how you still see me - why are you smiling at me like that?"

"And here I was thinking it was because we'd driven you 'round the bend," Ianto said teasingly.

The Doctor rubbed his hand through the back of his hair, and they traded conspiratorial grins. "I mentioned this was a fork in the road. I'm giving you a choice, basically. If you decided that you'd had enough of near-death experiences, and nigh apocalypses -

"- And rotten alien gits rifling through your knickers -"

"- and wanted to get on with your life, then we can say goodbye here. Or... you can pick up some of your things and come back as a full-time part of the crew."

Martha's face lit up, but she tamped it down to a wary hopefulness. "Really?"

"Ohyes!" The Doctor gave a roguish grin.

"We'd be honoured," Ianto added. "Though god knows how you manage to put up with us."

She just laughed and hugged them both. "I'd love to! Oh, thank you, thank you!"

"Tell you what, though, first things first. Did he just say he was going to change what it means to be human?"

* * *

><p>"Black tie. Every time I wear this, something bad always happens," the Doctor muttered bitterly, fussing with the cuffs of his dress shirt.<p>

"That's not the outfit, that's just you," Martha chuckled.

"Trouble magnet," Ianto said affectionately. The Doctor grinned at him, pleased to see him relaxed and comfortable. He'd have to have words with the TARDIS, though. Ianto had borrowed a tux from the wardrobe, and yet it looked perfectly tailored. He was starting to get a sneaking suspicion that the old girl had a wandering eye, of a sort.

"Anyway, I think it suits you," Martha went on. Ianto gave a light snort before masking it as a cough. She gave him a mock glare over the pun and her tone became teasing. "You know, in a - James Bond kinda way." Ianto replied to this with raised eyebrow # 117, 'oh, no you didn't.'

"James Bond?" The Doctor frowned. Was he missing something here? "Really?"

"I don't think Bond would ever be caught dead in black tie and Converse," Ianto said levelly, neglecting to mention that the Doctor somehow managed to pull it off nicely, and that he himself was wearing running shoes disguised as dress shoes. "Although, while we're playing secret agents, you should probably know that I got him on the guest list as Dr. Smith." A few hours ago, he'd gotten the Doctor to make a stop to about two weeks ago. He made a few phone calls and provided forged credentials, courtesy of the TARDIS, and they dropped back to Martha's place with 'two week old' chips, just in time for lunch. "You have your invitation, of course, but we can't both be your plus one. So, he's a freelance researcher, in case people ask questions."

"What 'bout you?"

"His lab assistant and translator."

"Translator?" Martha asked.

"Technobabble to English."

"Trust you to think of everything," she laughed. They crossed the road and approached the impressive entrance of Lazarus Laboratories. Cameras flashed and shiny cars pulled up, dispatching elegantly dressed guests. The sweeping stone staircase led to an atrium of columns, bathed in gently glowing lights behind billowing banners.

Ianto made a casual reconnaissance of their surroundings, catching snatches of conversation and contributing occasionally. The interior was cold, grey, glassy, and fittingly futuristic. Or, at least, the 21st Century impressions of futuristic. The focal point of the room was a blue and white contraption, a circular chamber between a claw of four glass columns. This aside, it could be any fancy gathering: string quartet, rustling gowns, champagne, and hors d'oeuvres.

"Oh, look, they've got nibbles! I love nibbles!" the Doctor said delightedly, snagging a canape from a serving tray and stuffing the whole thing in his mouth.

"Glad to know I don't have to remind you to eat," Ianto remarked, sidling up behind him suddenly. Martha jumped.

"God, don't sneak up like that. Where've you been, then?"

"Covering the basics," Ianto shrugged. "Entrances, exits, hiding places, fire extinguishers..." Martha grinned. "Talked to a few people, tried to get some information about the event, but it looks like the guests are in the dark about what's going to happen tonight." She poked him in the shoulder.

"And when you say 'talked to a few people,' did that include chatting up the strawberry blonde in the green dress that's eyeing you up right now?" She giggled at his expression. "So much for James Bond. You know, the 'deer in the headlights' look really suits you."

"Martha, it's not funny," he groaned. "I wasn't chatting her up, it was just a few questions about the device."

"Tell you what, if the Doctor stands still long enough, try holding hands with him. That'll get her off your case quickly enough." They both shot her mock-aggrieved looks. "I'm just saying, it'd work like a charm."

"Are you still taking the mickey with the 'genetic transfer?" Ianto sighed.

"Sorry. It's just cute when you squirm like that." Ianto winced.

"I can't believe I'm actually looking forward to this all going sideways."

"You think something's gonna happen?"

"We're here. It's inevitable."

Martha grinned and turned as she felt a tug on her arm. "Hello!"

"Tish!" She beamed as her sister pulled her into a hug.

"You look great," Tish smiled. "So, what do you think? Impressive, isn't it?"

"Very," Martha said fervently.

"And two nights out in a row for you," Tish continued. "That's dangerously close to a social life."

"If I keep this up, I'll end up in all the gossip columns," Martha replied airily.

"You might, actually. Keep an eye out for photographers. And Mum—she's coming too, even dragging Leo along with her."

Martha's eyebrows shot up. "Leo in black tie? That I must see." Tish's eyes darted to the Doctor and Ianto and back with an inquisitive smile. "This is the Doctor, by the way - Dr. Smith, and Ianto Jones."

"Ello!" The Doctor shook hands brightly, mouth still full of food. Ianto resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and followed suit.

"So you'd be Dr. Smith, the freelancer?"

"Yup!" The corners of his mouth twitched reminiscently, as a memory flitted by. _A desolate hospital ward in 1941, Rose in a Union Jack T-shirt with the exposed con-man pacing in frustration, coat swishing. "I thought you were Time Agents, you're not, are you?" "Just a couple more freelancers," Rose retorted._

"Just call him Doctor, he doesn't answer to anything else," Ianto sighed. Martha grinned, reminded of their introduction.

"And you're his..."

"Lab assistant."

"How'd you two run into Martha, then?"

"I met them at Royal Hope," Martha said lightly.

Ianto smirked, improvising just because he could. "I was visiting him. He had to learn the hard way that it's a bad idea to ingest one's experime -"

The Doctor cleared his throat. "So, this Lazarus, he's your boss?"

"Professor Lazarus, yes. I'm part of his executive staff," Tish informed him.

"She's in the PR department," Martha disparaged her playfully.

"I'm head of the PR department, actually!" Tish corrected her. "I put this whole thing together."

"So, do you know what the professor's going to be doing tonight?" The Doctor glanced behind him at the central contraption. "That looks like it might be a sonic microfield manipulator."

"Well, that clears that up," Ianto sighed. "So much for my career as an interpreter."

Tish shot them amused glances. "Should have figured he was a science geek. Gotta get back to work now, I'll catch up with you later." They watched her depart.

"Science geek? What does that mean?" Ianto and Martha glanced at each other.

She shrugged. "That you're obsessively enthusiastic about it."

He looked delighted. "Oh! Nice." He returned to scrutinizing what Ianto had temporarily dubbed the Circular Claw as the two of them fought off the snickers. Ianto frowned suddenly, noticing that the strawberry blonde was targeting him again. Hoping to discourage her further, he plucked two glasses from a tray and offered one to Martha.

"Penny for them?"

"Hmm? Oh, just wondering how I tell my Mum I ran off in a time machine with two blokes I only met last night. Relatively speaking."

"Ah. Shall we get your cover story sorted?" She raised an eyebrow. _She's getting scarily good at that,_ Ianto thought to himself,_ I hope it's not our bad influence._

"You're really enjoying this 'secret agent' lark, aren't you?"

* * *

><p>"Martha."<p>

When Martha turned, it suddenly struck her just how far she'd been from home. "Mum!" She ran forward and hugged her mother warmly, as the older woman looked surprised.

"Oh. All right, what's the occasion?"

"What do you mean? I'm just pleased to see you, that's all."

"You saw me last night."

"I know." She shrugged. "I just…miss you. You're looking good, Leo."

Her brother chuckled. "Yeah, well, if anyone asks me to fetch 'em a drink, I'll swing for him."

Martha's mother narrowed her eyes and appraised the Doctor and Ianto. "You disappeared last night."

The Doctor's mouth quirked impishly, and Ianto wished he was wearing the longcoat. It would make stepping on his foot a great deal more surreptitious. Martha smiled innocently and gestured to the pair of them.

"These two showed up short notice. This is the Doctor, and Ianto. We met at the hospital." Francine Jones nodded warily as Ianto shook hands with her and Leo.

"Doctor what? Is he a colleague?"

He gave a charming grin. "Smith, Dr. Smith, I'm actually a researcher. Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Jones. Heard a lot about you."

"Have you? What have you heard, then?"

"Oh, you know, that you're Martha's mother and… um… No, actually, that's… that's about it. We haven't had much time to chat, you know, been busy."

Ianto winced.

"Busy? Doing what, exactly?" she inquired coldly.

"We went to see a Shakespeare play," Ianto said before the Doctor could open his mouth again. Her suspicious gaze fell upon him. "Our friend declined last minute, so we offered her ticket to Martha."

"Is that right? What did you see?"

Martha grinned. "Love's Labour's Lost. It was _brilliant_. And we got a tour backstage afterwards, and a chat wi-" they were cut off as a wineglass was tapped cheerily to call the crowd to attention. Francine looked somewhat mollified, at least for the time being, and they turned to the center of the room.

The lights dimmed as the elderly man on the news took his place by the Circular Claw under the spotlight.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am Professor Richard Lazarus and tonight I'm going to perform a miracle. It is, I believe, the most important advance since Rutherford split the atom, the biggest leap since Armstrong stood on the moon." Ianto gave the Doctor a slight nudge.

"We should go see the moon landing sometime. Unless you've been already?" The Doctor shrugged noncommittally as Lazarus went on.

Tonight, you will watch and wonder. Tomorrow, you'll awake to a world which will be changed forever."

Cameras flashed like white-hot fireworks as Lazarus stepped inside the chamber. The Doctor folded his arms and stared darkly. Ianto heard what sounded suspiciously like a great big threatening button, probably a red one, pressed with feeling. The machine revolved, faster and faster, eclipsed in blue energy and a metallic whine, and _knives, screaming and grinding as they rotated above their victim's brain,_ it was dark and the flashes of cameras and technology and _sparks and fires and flickering lights,_ and the klaxon alarm blared harshly as _the Tower was compromised, lockdown,_ _run, hide get out_.

"Something's wrong, it's overloading!" The Doctor's voice jarred him back into focus. Several control panels blew into smoke as the harried technicians tried to restore control, and suddenly the Doctor was no longer at his side but leaping over the computer booth, sonic in hand. Ianto was in no position to move as the crowd was pressing together, and he couldn't see Martha anymore.

"Somebody stop him, get him away from those controls!" a woman yelled.

"If this thing goes off, it'll take the whole building with it. Is that what you want?" he yelled back, vaulting the desk again and yanking the main wire.

The Circular Claw's revolutions slowed, fizzing to a halt. Martha darted forward and yanked the chamber door open. It gave a pneumatic hiss, and suddenly there was a bated silence as the crowd leaned in and a figure staggered out of the smoke. Cameras flashed as a fair-haired young man emerged and set a delicate hand to his smooth face, a jubilant grin spreading. He took a few hesitant steps forward, before spreading his arms in triumph.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am Richard Lazarus. I am 76 years old and I am reborn!" The crowd exploded into cheers.

Martha simply stared at him in disbelief. The Doctor scowled uneasily as Lazarus smiled for the cameras, and Ianto straightened his bowtie and slipped through the crowd up next to Martha.

"It can't be the same guy," she said in an undertone. "It's impossible. It must be a trick."

"Oh, it's not a trick. I wish it were." The Doctor appeared from behind the glass column, peering over her shoulder.

"God, quit sneaking up. So, what just happened, then?"

"He just changed what it means to be human."


	24. The Lazarus Experiment: Pt 2

**So, this is my last pre-written chapter which may mean updates will be a little more sporadic from here on out.**

**Also, more Sherlock references.**

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><p>The three of them observed the newly transformed Professor Lazarus in turns for several minutes as the party continued, the guests abuzz with excitement. As he began scarfing down hors d'oeuvres like a Labrador with a plate full of doggy biscuits, ("I'm famished!") the Doctor and Martha sidled up to him. Ianto hovered off near one of the tables, sipping his drink and watching as the Doctor's expressions bounced like a ball from gleeful admiration to unmistakable authority to genuine concern to sheer derision.<p>

"Hello again." A soft, piping voice materialized by his shoulder, and he flinched, still shaky and on edge from the incident.

He schooled his expression to blank politeness as he turned to address his persistent follower. "Miss, ah -"

"Hudson." He dipped his head in acknowledgement as she continued, "I never did catch _your_ name, Mr..."

"Jones." With the Doctor's help, he'd gone through his records and removed all traces of connection to Rhiannon and her family, on the off chance that anyone from Torchwood or UNIT got wind of his survival. There were also countless Joneses in Wales, and four others here this evening. 'Jones' was as safe a name as Smith.

"So, do you know that man?" Her dress fluttered and her hair shimmered and she wore a light, secret smile, gesturing towards the Doctor. "The tall one, speaking to the Professor? I saw you speaking to him earlier."

"He's my employer," Ianto said shortly.

Undaunted, she tried to keep up her inquiries under the guise of pleasant conversation. "Oh, what company does he represent?"

"He doesn't."

"Beg your pardon?"

"He does private research, on a freelance basis."

"Does he really? And what's it like for you, working as his... assistant?"

"Dull. It's all paperwork and coffee and cleaning up his experiments." He made a face. "Rat jam. _Not_ a fun day." He bestowed a disarming smile. "Nothing you'd find very interesting, I'm afraid. What about yourself? Are you with one of the companies?"

"I'm here representing Mr. Saxon." Her town was offhand, yet definitely intended to impress. The name was vaguely familiar, and there was nothing to suggest a lie. Which was interesting; if she'd wanted information from him, she likely wouldn't want him prying into hers. It could be a warning, but he'd missed nearly a year of current events, so the significance was lost on him. He pasted an appropriately intrigued look onto his face, sipped his drink to buy time, and glanced across the room. Professor Lazarus dismissed the Doctor, turning and offering his hand to Martha.

"I see. Does he have an interest in this area?" Martha accepted a handshake, and he leaned down to kiss her hand. Ianto couldn't see her expression, but by the way her shoulders tensed, she certainly wasn't pleased.

"He's considering... investments in the technology." Lazarus moved off, and Martha waggled her hand at the Doctor, who beamed at her.

"I'm not surprised. It is a remarkable innovation." They scanned the room, and the Doctor's eyes locked on Ianto, jerking his head. "Would you excuse me for a moment? I've been summoned."

He set down his drink and crossed the room, falling into step with the Doctor, who smirked at him.

"Have a nice chat?"

Ianto scowled. "Spare me. Who's Mr. Saxon?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Dunno."

"She works for him. Says he's considering an investment with the technology. Where are we going?"

"DNA testing."

"Didn't we do that yesterday?"

"That was 77 years ago! Anyway, we're supposed to be investigating, not... _chatting._"

"She was trying to get information about you. I don't trust her."

"Oh, yeah? What'd you tell her?"

"That I dislike cleaning your experiments out of the sink."

"You've never had to -"

"I'm your research assistant. Of course I have."

The Doctor shot him a sidelong grin. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

* * *

><p>After some quality 'poking around' time, the Doctor sonicked in to a dark laboratory and fired up a computer terminal, whipping out the brainy specs. "I'm going to need one of you to keep an eye out in case we get interrupted. Whose turn is it to have look-out duty?"<p>

Ianto glanced balefully at the readings and the glasses. "Mine. You two science geeks can sort this out." Martha elbowed him and settled by the monitor, as Ianto scanned the room. Microscopes aplenty, a projection screen, flammable substances galore. This building wouldn't last the night. He leaned against the doorframe as the Doctor broke into the lab records onto the computer.

"Amazing," the Doctor murmured.

"What?"

"Lazarus's DNA."

"I can't see anything different," Martha muttered.

"Look at it!" he insisted peevishly. The screen made a fidgety noise of protest.

"Oh, my God! Did that just change? But it can't have!"

"But it did."

"It's impossible," she declared.

"And that's two impossible things we've seen tonight." The Time Lord gave a delighted smile, like he'd found two shiny pennies, one right after the other. "Don't you love it when that happens?"

"That means Lazarus has changed his own molecular patterns."

"Hypersonic sound waves to destabilize the cell structure, then a mutagenic program to manipulate the coding in the protein strands."

"You lost me at mutagenic," Ianto said flatly. "You know, you are actually allowed to breathe in the middle of your explanations."

"Basically, he hacked into his own genes and instructed them to rejuvenate."

"Better."

"But they're still mutating now," Martha clarified.

"'Cause he missed something. Something in his DNA has been activated and won't let him stabilize. Something that's trying to change him."

"Change him into what?"

"I dunno but I think we need to find out."

"That woman said they were going upstairs."

"Right! Come on!"

* * *

><p>The lift <em>dinged<em> and they stepped into a spacious room, all white tile and cold rectangles reflecting electric blue orbs, contrasting with old-fashioned wooden furniture and artwork. The Doctor flipped the lights on.

"This is his office, all right," Martha muttered, heels clunking on the tile floor.

"It's bigger than my old flat," Ianto huffed, examining a model cathedral.

"So, where is he?"

"Dunno. Let's try back at the re - ception." Martha's voice trailed away and they followed her gaze to a shriveled set of legs, still in black dress shoes, sticking out from behind the desk. Her eyes widened in shock and she gasped as they knelt beside the gnarled corpse.

"Is that Lady Thaw?"

Ianto picked up the fallen glass and sniffed it gingerly. _Alcoholic drink, nothing unusual. Unlikely cause for mummification. Mutated genetic experiment; much more likely._

"Used to be. Now it's just a shell. Had all the life energy drained out," the Doctor whispered darkly, as though he was telling a ghost story. "Like squeezing the juice out of an orange."

This received Raised Eyebrow #35. "How nice."

"Lazarus?" Martha asked in a hushed voice.

"Could be..." the Doctor murmured.

"So he's changed already."

"Not necessarily. You saw the DNA. It was fluctuating, the process must demand energy. This might not have been enough."

Her head shot up. "So he might do this again?"

The Doctor's eyes widened and he nodded in agreement. Ianto and Martha traded a look and were on their feet in an instant, the three of them dashing for the lifts.

* * *

><p>They wove purposefully through the crowds, but found no sign of the professor's new shock of blond hair.<p>

"I can't see him," Martha said worriedly.

"He can't be far. Keep looking." The Doctor padded swiftly ahead in his Converse, as Martha was stopped by Leo.

"Hey, you all right, Martha? I think Mum wants to talk to you -"

"Have you see Lazarus anywhere?" she cut him off urgently. Ianto pulled up short behind her.

"Yeah, he was gettin' cozy with Tish a couple of minutes ago."

"With Tish?" She shot Ianto an alarmed look as the Doctor doubled back.

"Ah, Doctor -" Martha's mother approached them.

Ianto stepped forward, effectively blocking the Time Lord. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Jones, but we have to find Tish. She could be in danger, can you tell us where they went?"

Francine's eyebrows shot up in alarm. "Upstairs, I think. What's going on?" she asked suspiciously.

"Come on!" the Doctor spun on his heel and raced off, Martha in tow.

"Doct- Martha!"

"There's no time, we'll have to explain later," Ianto said grimly, hoping the urgency of the situation would convince her. He had a feeling that taking down a monster, short of a Dalek, would be a picnic compared to getting on Francine Jones' bad side.

* * *

><p>"Pressing the lift buttons over and over is not going to make this thing go any faster!" he chided the impatient Time Lord as they burst out of the doors into the deserted office.<p>

"Where are they?"

"Fluctuating DNA will give off an energy signature." His words tumbled out in a hasty whirlwind. "I might be able to pick it up." He buzzed the room intently, the sonic bleeping as he pointed it toward the ceiling.

"Got him!"

They located a stairwell and slipped quietly outside where Tish and Lazarus had their backs to them.

"I find that nothing's ever exactly like you expect," Lazarus was saying. "There's always something to surprise you. 'Between the idea and the reality, between the motion and the act-'

"Falls the shadow," the Doctor finished, announcing their presence.

Lazarus turned, smiled ingratiatingly. "So, the mysterious Doctor knows his Eliot." He looked at Ianto. "And my, he does love to be dramatic."

"Yes, thank god you're above all that," Ianto said mildly.

"Martha, what are you doing here?" Tish hissed.

"Tish, get away from him," Martha said firmly.

"What? Don't tell me what to do -"

"I wouldn't have thought you had time for poetry, Lazarus," the Doctor continued as though the girls weren't even there. "What with you being busy defying the laws of nature and all."

"You're right, Doctor," Lazarus said evenly. "One lifetime's been too short for me to do everything I'd like. How much more would I get done in two or three or four?"

"I would have thought that a man who can quote Eliot might also be familiar with Roald Dahl. Minusland notwithstanding, de-aging one's self can have disastrous consequences," Ianto pointed out.

The Doctor gave a barely perceptible nod of approval. "He's right, it doesn't work like that. Some people live more in 20 years than others do in 80. It's not the time that matters; it's the person."

"But if it's the right person, what a gift that would be."

"Or what a curse. Look at what you've done to yourself."

"And on that note, Ms. Jones, would you humor us for a moment and step over here, please?" Ianto said as diplomatically as though they were taking tea. Tish looked unsettled by his sudden politeness in contrast to the scathing repartee. Martha heaved a sigh of relief the moment Tish joined them, glaring slightly.

"What the hell's going on with you lot?"

"Well..." Ianto began, breaking off with a slight wince. Lazarus was not a pretty picture. He was writhing, his neck stretched and face contorted with discomfort. "Considering we found Lady Thaw's desiccated corpse on his office floor and weren't keen to see yours be the - ooh, that looks like it hurts."

Tish looked at him, confounded, as he made a flippant little hand gesture, indicating 'turn around.' She and Martha and the Doctor looked on in wonder, and Ianto decided that he refused to be remotely awestruck by Lazarus's transformation. He now resembled a monstrous zombie scorpion with a humanesque face and expanded ribcage, and had elements of Racnoss thrown in with the thready talons and pincers.

"If you don't mind my saying, I think you could do so much better than him."

_"_What is that?" Tish whispered.

_And, 5... 4... 3... 2... 1..._

"Run!" the Doctor yelled, right on cue. Flight instincts kicked in, and he barely registered the door, stairs, the sonic screwdriver sealing out the creature that was Lazarus. The next moment, they were in the lift, the Doctor rapidly pressing buttons as Martha turned to Tish.

"Are you okay?"

She stared at the floor in slight disbelief. "I was gonna snog him."

"Head of the department and a giant spider. Happens all the time."

Martha gave Ianto another incredulous look. "Right, you have _got _to tell me what the deal is with giant spiders 'cause you keep bringing them up, and -"

"This one's more like a scorpion," the Doctor interrupted,

"Spider, zombie scorpion, he's homicidal with too many pincers. The rest is just details."

Lazarus slammed against the doors, and alarms blared while a cool voice declared, "_Security one. Security one. Security one."_

"What's happening?" Martha whispered.

Tish tried to collect herself. "Uh, an intrusion. It triggers a security lockdown. Kills most of the power. Stops the lifts. Seals the exits."

"He must be breaking through that door," the Doctor muttered. "The stairs, come on!"

They were halfway down a flight as there was an almighty crash - Lazarus was inside. Time to save a room full of people from a genetically mutated human-now-scorpion. Definitely a Tuesday. Ianto decided to sacrifice dignity for speed and a moment of self-indulgent childishness. Hang the secret agent panache. After all, he might get killed and didn't want to pass this up. He slid neatly down the banisters, bypassing the stairs in a brief thrill of speed, and regretted nothing. He'd always wanted to do that.

* * *

><p>"Tish! Is there another way out of here?" the Doctor called loudly as they reentered the reception hall.<p>

"There's an exit in the corner, but it'll be locked now." The Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver from his pocket and tossed it to Martha.

"Joneses, setting 54, hurry!" They dodged through the crowd towards the glass doors, and Martha set the sonic to the locks as the Doctor darted up to the Circular Claw. "Listen to me! You people are in serious danger! You need to get out of here right now!"

Ianto glanced back and pulled out his stopwatch.

"What are you doing?" Martha hissed.

"I'm giving you until the count of ten and then I'm bashing the door with a chair."

The crowd hadn't heeded the Doctor's words, and one woman spoke up scathingly. "Don't be ridiculous, the biggest danger here is choking on an olive."

The creature that was Lazarus chose that moment to smash through the glass hallway and careen into the landing. He reared up and snarled, launching himself clear over the rails and landing on one of the tables, flinging them aside. The crowd rushed as one for the doors, dropping drinks and nibbles amidst the screams of terror.

"3, 2, hurry up, we're about to get stampeded!" Ianto peered over the oncoming crowd, access to a chair now blocked, hearing the Doctor yell "_NO, get away from her!" _He flinched and looked away as there was a grotesque slurking noise. The shriveled corpse of the woman who'd spoken up now fell to the floor. Martha and Tish ushered more frightened people through the doors and Ianto caught a glimpse of their mother kneeling by Leo, who looked as though he'd been injured in the fray. Lazarus' hulking figure loomed over them and Ianto shoved his way back, grabbing a silver tray off the floor and flinging it like a frisbee, Martha on his heels as they fought their way towards Francine and Leo.

"_Lazarus!"_ the Doctor shouted. "Leave them alone!" Lazarus turned to face the Doctor and Martha slid to the floor beside the others. Ianto gave a shrill, piercing whistle, dodging the monster's flailing claws, rolling to relative safety behind a table when he saw that Martha had gotten them to safety.

Lazarus stalked towards the Doctor, who stood in place beside the device and began to lecture him. "What's the point if you can't control it? The mutation's too strong. Killing those people won't help you. You're a fool! A vain old man who thought he could defy Nature. Only Nature got her own back, didn't she? You're a joke, Lazarus! A footnote in the history of failure!" The Doctor took to his heels and dashed down a hall, and the monster thundered behind him.

* * *

><p>Ianto evacuated the remaining people down the stairs as Martha pressed ice to Leo's forehead and ushered them into the main hall. There was still a swarm of people in the entrance hall, trapped and pounding on the glass doors.<p>

"We can't get out! We're trapped!" he heard Tish yell over the noise.

"There's got to be an override switch! Where's the security desk? Tish!" she called sharply, trying to get her sister to snap out of her panic.

"There!" Tish pointed to their right, and Martha dashed across the hall, sliding neatly across the desk and swinging her legs down on the other side. _Oh, not fair. Martha just royally showed him up at the super spy game._ It took her all of a few moments to sonic the control panel, illuminating the room and unlocking the doors. The bottlenecked crowd pushed their way to freedom, and she rushed back to them, screwdriver in hand. Ianto shot her a wink and a nod.

"Nice work, Agent Jones." She beamed, but it faded suddenly. They both turned to look back at the marble staircase, half expecting to hear the squeak of converse sneakers, followed by a roar and an explosion.

"We've got to go back, huh?" Ianto pursed his lips for a second. On one hand, the Doctor probably had things under control, relatively speaking. He could probably lure the creature into a lab and have an arsenal of equipment to throw at it, and they weren't doing him any favors by getting in the way of an explosion. On the other hand, he was probably overdoing it again. And aside from that, they couldn't just sit and wait for the Doctor to become monster chow, or try to take Lazarus up with him.

"Yep, probably."

Francine rounded on them. "You can't go back! You saw what that thing did, it will kill you!"

"We can't just stay here and do nothing," Martha protested.

"It's that Doctor, isn't it? You're both going back for him?"

"If we don't, he'll probably try to do something clever and get himself hurt in the process," Ianto said ruefully. "He needs someone to watch out for him."

"Young man, there's nothing I can do to stop you, but do not drag my daughter into this madness!"

"Mum, I'm right here!"

"She has a point, it's probably safer if you stayed here," Ianto said honestly. Aside from the fact that her mum was _scary_, who was he kidding? He didn't want her to get hurt. Martha whipped around and glared at him, sending a shiver down his spine, and it occurred to him that she was the scarier of the two. He recoiled, hands up defensively, and gave Francine a hopeless shrug. "Sorry, I tried."

Martha huffed at him for a second before turning back. "Mum, I'm sorry, but we're not leaving anybody behind." She spun and strode purposefully for the stairs. "Come on, Ianto, let's go monster hunting."

"We are such a bad influence on you," he muttered as he followed.

"Who says it's your influence?" she shot back, taking the stairs two at a time. "Who says it's anyone's influence at all?"


	25. The Lazarus Experiment: Pt 3

**I am so sorry this one took so long to get out the door. And I'm also sorry because updates will be a bit less frequent from here on out, since I have no more pre-written chapters and I'll be busy with community college classes soon. Be patient, gentle readers. Also, this one ends kind of abruptly, but all three chapters were well over 3k words and it needed to stop somewhere. I hope it lives up to the usual standard, as it was mostly crafted at o'dark thirty and may be a bit ill-thought-out in places.**

* * *

><p>They had reached the corridor of the second floor when they heard the explosion, and glanced at each other before running straight towards it. They collided with a skinny black and white blur that was tearing away from the short-lived crash. The Doctor caught them by the arms to stop himself.<p>

"What are you doing here?" he cried, voice an octave higher than usual.

"We're returning this!" Martha said brightly, holding up the sonic screwdriver. "Thought you might need it."

"How did you -"

"You blew something up, how do you think?" Ianto added breathlessly.

"I blasted Lazarus."

"Did you kill him?" There was a contradictory roar as the monster pounded through the door and onto the white balcony.

"More sort of annoyed him, I'd say."

They raced back into the abandoned reception hall.

"What now, we've just gone round in a circle!"

"We can't lead him outside!" The Doctor darted for the Circular Claw and yanked it open. "Come on, get in!"

"We can't all fit!" Ianto protested. He and the Doctor exchanged significant looks, and he dashed away, scrambling out of sight, as the Time Lord pulled Martha into the machine. Lazarus skidded into the hall and circled the device, snarling like an oversized jaguar that was stalking its trapped prey. Temporarily concealed, he gave himself a moment to regroup.

_Okay, think. They're safe inside the device because Lazarus won't want to tear apart his work. You get in his line of sight and you're mutant munch. Which means no running for the exits; no leading it outside, definitely no leaving the Doctor and Martha. Technical knowledge: rudimentary at best. Likelihood of defeating Lazarus singlehandedly: slim to nil. Likelihood of the Doctor having a plan: slim. Likelihood of him improvising: not so bad. _

Lazarus scuttled towards the tables where he was crouched and he dove away at the last second. With the monster's head turned away, he ducked into a corner of the room with the lightswitches that he'd found earlier and flicked them off, hoping to confuse him. There was a sharp _click_ and a high-pitched whine as the machine began to glow and revolve. His stomach jumped into his throat as the machine rotated at an incomprehensible speed. He slid across the floor beneath Lazarus' line of sight, hunting for the off button or a circuit to break, as the scream of the machine and the flashing blue light threw his perception out of whack.

A shock of energy erupted from the machine and threw Lazarus across the room. The metal screens behind him absorbed most of the blast and Ianto curled into a protective ball behind the tech booth. The room fell silent save for a hiss of hydraulics. He pulled himself up and felt a flood of relief as the Doctor and Martha stepped safely out of the machine, looking rattled but none the worse for wear.

"I thought we were going to go through the blender, then," Martha murmured. "Oh my God, Ianto!" She whipped around to look for him and he gave her a shaky smile. She ran up and threw her arms around his neck. He gave a relieved chuckle.

"I'm so glad you two are alright," he admitted. She pulled back and poked him sharply in the chest.

"Don't you _dare_ scare me like that again, Mister!" The Doctor grinned at them both.

"It really shouldn't take that long to reverse the polarity. I must be a bit out of practice." Ianto gave a scathing cough.

"You reversed the polarity? Seriously?"

"Oi! It's a classic trick, works all the time, don't knock it!" Their grins faded as they stared at Lazarus' prone form.

"He seems so…human again," Martha whispered. "It's kind of pitiful."

"Eliot saw that, too. "This is the way the world ends..."

"Not with a bang, but with a whimper," Ianto finished.

* * *

><p>The paramedics showed up and hauled Lazarus away in a body bag. As they followed solemnly, Ianto held out his elbow and Martha put a hand on his arm, and the Doctor quietly unknotted his bowtie and letting it hang loosely around his neck.<p>

"She's here, she's alright!" Tish hurried up to them and pulled Martha into a hug. Ianto's eyes widened as he saw Mrs. Jones marching up to them. He kicked the Doctor in the heel.

"Keep your mouth shut and don't make eye contact," he muttered under his breath, taking a pace back and out of the line of fire. This immediately proved to be a wise decision: Francine delivered a resounding slap across the Doctor's face.

"Keep away from my daughter," she hissed. Ianto made a valiant effort to keep from bursting into laughter, turning his face away and clamping a hand over his mouth.

"Mum, what are you doing?" Martha asked in a warning tone.

"Always the mothers, every time," the Doctor muttered.

"And Donna, can't forget Donna," Ianto grinned at him. "This is Christmas all over again." The Time Lord looked thoroughly peeved.

"You're not helping."

"It is funny, though." Francine glared at them both and they ducked their heads like naughty schoolboys. She turned back to Martha.

"He is dangerous! I've been told things."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look around you!" She grasped her by the shoulders, beseeching. "Nothing but death and destruction!"

"This isn't his fault, he saved us, all of us!" Martha's voice rose in indignation.

"It was Tish who invited everyone to this thing in the first place," Leo butted in. "I'd say technically, it's her fault." Ianto shot him an understanding grin as Tish gave a first-class eyeroll and elbowed him in the stomach. _Oh, the life of a little brother._ The confrontation was abruptly ended as the ambulance that had driven off with Lazarus came to a crash just down the street. The Doctor spun around, his head in the air like a prairie dog, and took off running. Ianto winced and took to his heels as well. _Oh, the life of a mad scientist's assistant._

For a moment it seemed that Francine was holding Martha back, but when he turned around, both she and Tish had followed them to the abandoned ambulance. The doors had been busted wide open and the paramedics lay slumped in the back, stiff and shriveled.

"Lazarus - back from the dead," the Doctor whispered. "Should have known, really." He yanked out his screwdriver and pulled a 360 scan until it blipped and pointed their direction like a compass.

"That way. The church."

"Cathedral," Ianto and Tish said at the same time.

"It's - Southwark Cathedral," Tish said hastily. "He told me."

"Saw the model in his office," Ianto tossed off as they headed for the doors. They skulked warily into the dark, stone hall, following the pulsing blue light.

"D'you think he's in here?" Martha whispered.

"Where would you go if you were looking for sanctuary?" the Doctor muttered back. They stalked in silence across the length of the great hall, with the pews and stone bathed in moonlight. Martha watched the arched hallways uneasily, in case the monster of Lazarus was waiting to jump out at them from the shrouded darkness. Ianto smiled to himself, on edge with the adrenaline rush. He checked behind him as Tish followed, definitely jumpy, and offered her an encouraging smile as they passed the altar to the empty cove beneath the bell tower. Lazarus was huddled behind the altar, shivering and gasping, wrapped in a red shock blanket from the ambulance. The Doctor circled him as the three Joneses hung warily on the sidelines.

"I came here before," Lazarus rasped. "A lifetime ago. I thought I was going to die then. In fact, I was sure of it. I sat there, just a child…the sound of planes and bombs outside."

"The Blitz," the Doctor said bluntly. Lazarus managed something between a patronizing smirk and a grimace.

"You've read about it."

"I was there," the Time Lord replied softly.

"You're too young."

"So are you." Lazarus chuckled humorlessly before arching his neck back, straining, face contorted with pain. "In the morning, the fires had died, and I was still alive." The Doctor continued to circle him, gazing up the bell tower, taking in his surroundings, seeing everything. "I swore I'd never face death like that again. So defenceless. I would arm myself, fight back, defeat it."

"And that's what you were trying to do today."

"That's what I _did _today!"

"What about the other people that died?" the Doctor snapped accusingly_._

"They were nothing. I changed the course of history," Lazarus said loftily.

"Any of them might have done, too. You think history's only made with equations?" The Doctor's voice raised suddenly, then lowered. "Facing death is part of being human. You can't change that."

"No, _Doctor_," Lazarus snarled. "Avoiding death. That's being human. It's our strongest impulse, to cling to life with every fibre of being. I'm doing what everyone before me has tried to do. I've simply been more…" a corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk. "Successful." He gave a cry of pain and threw his head back again, bones in his neck crunching audibly.

"Look at yourself! You're mutating!" the Doctor called scathingly, voice echoing in the chamber. "You've no control over it! You call that a success?"

"I call it progress," Lazarus wheezed. His neck snapped to the side with an audible crack, and he doubled over in pain. Martha winced and Ianto gave a contemptuous shudder, each inching forward to the Doctor's side. "I'm more now that I was. More than just an ordinary human."

"There's no such thing as an ordinary human," the Doctor whispered, the barest hint of his animated smile suddenly easing the intensity in his face. Lazarus choked and arched violently.

"He's gonna change again at any minute," Martha murmured to the Doctor as they huddled in conspiracy.

"I know," he breathed. "If I can get him up into the bell tower somehow, I've an idea that might work."

"Up there?" Martha motioned with her head.

"Uh huh!"

"Might?" Ianto whispered.

"Uh huh!" His eyebrows gave a lively flick. Well, he seemed somewhat confident with this plan. Ianto frowned. So far they'd caught Lazarus in an explosion and hit him with an energy burst from his own machine. Throwing him off of a bell tower didn't seem like a much more effective option. The Doctor circled him again as he jerked violently.

"You're so sentimental, Doctor," Lazarus hissed. "Maybe you are older than you look."

"I'm old enough to know that a longer life isn't always a better one," the Doctor said darkly. "In the end, you just get tired." Lazarus tilted his head down, listening properly at last. "Tired of the struggle. Tired of losing everyone that matters to you. Tired of watching everything... turn to dust." He crouched down on the stone to look the other man in the eye. "If you live long enough, Lazarus, the only certainty left is that you end up alone." Ianto shivered slightly as the weight of the Doctor's words hit him. 907... suddenly his behavior in Manhattan seemed to carry another perspective. 900 years fighting, losing everything as the creatures of terror survived... no wonder he wanted it to end. Still. The universe needed him. Needed him to live and keep fighting for the things that mattered when no one else was left.

"That's a price worth paying." And Lazarus was beyond saving, and didn't particularly seem to want it much.

"Is it?" the Doctor whispered, eyes dark with centuries of sorrow. In reply, the broken man's bones crunched like thin ice under an unsuspecting skater.

"I will feed soon." Ianto gazed up to the tower, then eyed a nearby doorway.

"I'm not gonna let that happen." Martha glanced at the door, then caught his eye. He tightened his lips and dipped his head in a barely perceptible nod.

"You've not been able to stop me so far." Martha took two steps to the right, now aligned with the archway to the staircase.

"Leave him, Lazarus!" she commanded. Lazarus whipped his head around to stare at her darkly. "He's old and bitter. Thought you had a taste for fresher meat."

"Martha, no," the Doctor said warningly. Too late. Lazarus growled and leaped to his feet, and Martha ran. Ianto was barely a pace behind, and so, she realized, was Tish.

"What are you doing?" she yelled.

"Keeping you out of trouble!" Well aware of the fact that he had running shoes and a longer stride and the girls were both in heels, Ianto stayed behind them to give them the advantage. They raced up the narrow spiral stairs with Lazarus in awkward pursuit, hampered by his shock blanket. He gave a contorted wail.

"Did you hear that?" Tish cried. More snarls, the sound of bones stretching and contorting.

"He's changed again, keep moving! We've got to lead him up!"

They bolted across a cloistered hall, pulling to a halt as the heard the Doctor's holler of "Oi! Joneses!" echo across the building.

"Doctor!" Martha called back. They peered out the arched windows as the Doctor stood in the center of the great hall.

"Take him up to the top, the very top of the bell tower, d'you hear me?"

"Up to the top!" Martha confirmed, staying put at the window. There was a snarl from just around the corner of the staircase.

"Martha -" Tish began.

"Go on, keep moving!" Ianto hustled them away from the window as Lazarus barged into view. They clattered up another narrow flight of stairs and into the top of the tower, on a circular stone walkway with wooden rails.

"There's nowhere else to go, we're trapped!" Tish cried as they scooted to the far side of the rails. Ianto slammed the door behind them, figuring it wouldn't do much good but was worth a few seconds.

"This is where he said to bring him!"

"Okay, so we're not trapped, we're bait."

"He knows what he's doing, we have to trust him!"

"We're going to be fine, I think he's actually got a plan this time," Ianto added. Tish looked at him, stunned, and Martha glared. "Er - that was intended to be reassuring."

"Not really!"

"Sorry." There was a raucous snarl as the door splintered off its hinges and Lazarus stalked into the room on his pincers. Martha backed Tish up against the outer rails and Ianto leaned over next to her. "I'm going to try the left side, if I can keep him busy, you two make a run for it, you should have enough time to get out."

"Like hell I'm going to let you -"

"Get Tish out safely and don't let your Mum kill the Doctor."

"I won't. If that thing gets you, I'm beating her to it." There was no time for a witty reply; Lazarus lashed out with his lethal-looking tail, slicing the air like a sword drawn from its scabbard. Martha shielded Tish as Ianto dove in the opposite direction. He leaped to his feet and gave an earsplitting whistle. He ducked again as the scorpion tail made another revolution. Martha separated herself from Tish, who made a tentative dart towards the door, leaving Martha halfway between the two of them and directly in Lazarus' line of sight. A pipe organ resounded through the cathedral halls.

"_That's _your plan?" Ianto hollered downwards as the tail swung again. It bashed into a section of the wooden rails and knocked the beams apart. Martha rose and it caught her on the side of the head on the backswing, pitching her through the gap in the rails. Ianto's heart lodged in his throat when he heard her scream, followed by Tish's. She was still clinging to the stone ledge as Lazarus loomed above her.

"Get away from her!" Tish screamed as the tail swayed, poised to strike. Ianto lunged to the opening and grabbed a spike of wood, hurling it at Lazarus.

"OI! Pea-brain!" The spike caught on a shred of stretched tendon in his ribs, and dangled there futilely. Lazarus reared and bared his pincers, swiping at Martha with his claws. Ianto pelted another shard of railing, smacking an offending appendage. The music blared ever louder. Tish winced and clamped her hands over her ears. Teeth rattling, Ianto edged over to the side of the gap. Lazarus arched his head back at the sound and howled in pain, and the entire tower was shaking, and threatening to pluck Martha off the ledge and drop her to the stone floor far below. _Not again, dammit, they nearly lost Donna like this._ Ianto lurched forward a few more feet and hooked one arm around the nearest railing. He clamped a hand around her wrist, screwing his eyes shut against the noise. Lazarus reared above them, raging, thundering, and fell, fell through the circle, hitting the stone with a heavy thud.

The music cut off immediately. Tish fisted a hand into the back of Ianto's suit jacket and grabbed Martha's other arm, hauling her to safety.

"_Martha!_" they heard the Doctor yell skyward as they collapsed against the back wall, tangled together and shaking with relief.

"I'm okay!" she shouted back. "We're all okay!" She burst into giggles and smacked Ianto lightly. "Somebody's been reading Harry Potter, eh?" Ianto grinned sheepishly.

"First thing that jumped into my head."

"Tell me about it!" Her grinned softened and she hugged them both closer. "Thanks."

"It's your Doctor you should be thanking," Tish admitted.

"Told you he'd think of something."

"Plan or not, he is very, very good." Ianto chewed his lip. "But you can't tell him I said that."

"He cut it a bit fine there, didn't he?" Tish chuckled.

"He always does, it's more fun that way," Martha said shakily.

"Who _is_ he?" she asked, halfway between awe and bewilderment. Martha faltered, at a loss for words. Ianto groaned and got to his feet, holding his hands out to pull both of them up.

"We'll let you know when we actually work that one out."

They began their shaky descent done the spiral stone stairs, and as Martha pulled ahead by a few steps Tish gave Ianto a conspiratorial nudge.

"Listen, I know Mum's not too thrilled abut everything, but if you like I can put in a good word for you and Martha..." Ianto looked briefly puzzled. "Just, saying I approve and everything -" The penny dropped.

"Oh. No, no, Martha and I, we're not like that." Tish's eyebrows shot up.

"Really? You two seem close, for having only just met." Ianto sighed slightly and spoke up a bit louder.

"Well, at least _someone_ doesn't think it's me and the Doctor." Martha paused on her step, and whirled around.

"Geez, Tish! No matchmaking! We're friends, that's all, there's nothing going on." Tish held up her hands in concession. Martha sighed grudgingly. "So I'll stop taking the mickey with you and the Doctor, Ianto. Even if it's funny."

"Much obliged."

"Well, in any case, just... you lot look after each other, yeah?" Ianto nodded.

"That goes without saying." His eyes gleamed slightly. "The monsters won't know what hit them." They reached the end and Martha ran the last few steps towards the Doctor, who met her head-on and scooped her up in a hug, picking her up off her feet.

"I didn't know you could play!" she blurted out as they pulled apart.

"Oh, well, you hang around with Beethoven, you're bound to pick a few things up."

"Hmm, especially about playing loud." He cocked his head and put on a slightly glazed expression.

"Sorry?" She chuckled and thumped him lightly in the shoulder.

"Is there anything he can't do?" Tish muttered sidelong.

"Make toast. Burns it every time," Ianto said matter-of-factly, before striding up to them. "Where's my hug?" The Doctor gave a serious expression and he nearly faltered, thinking that he'd overstepped his bounds. No, he knew this look, it was the 'I'm going to psyche you out because I think it's funny.' Sure enough, the Doctor's face cleared abruptly and he pulled him into a hug. Ianto smirked and poked him in the shoulder.

"Next time, you can be the bait."


	26. 42: Epilogue

**At the advice of a few of you and the fact that I watched the episode again and really didn't want to work with it, I have skipped 42 and would like to work with some other adventures in between and leading up to Human Nature. Not sure how much depth I'll go into, but I'm hoping to involve Myfanwy in the coming chapters. **

**I now present the epilogue to the episode 42. Please do let me know if you think these TARDIS one-shots are becoming out of character; I adore writing these scenes with the Doc and Ianto and a lot of it comes off the top of my head, but I still have my doubts about how much artistic license is too much.**

**And I've seen reference to Tesco's in multiple fics and have thus far gathered that it's a grocery store or something along those lines. If I have the wrong end of the stick then I do apologize. **

**The purple Jabba the Hut is a reference to the Glutonoid Menace which was apparently a comic strip in one of the magazines. **

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><p>42: Epilogue<p>

After the incident on the S.S. Pentallian and the ice-skating trip that had ended mostly in disaster, (which was thereafter referred to as 'why we don't try to resonate water molecules and force them to unbind whilst people are standing on them, even if there are unrecognizable particles that must be identified') the Doctor was beginning to grow concerned when both Joneses disappeared into the depths of the TARDIS and thus far had not turned up for several hours. Suddenly realizing that the console room was much too quiet, he scampered off to check up on them, in the hopes that they weren't still holding it against him for sonicking the ice.

He found them almost immediately: it seemed that Martha had insisted upon Ianto explaining the source of the constant snickers and remarks about fish, petunias, and mice that he had been tossing off during the Pentallian fiasco. They were both holed up on the floor in the library wearing stripey pajamas and dressing gowns,surrounded by scattered empty mugs and towels. The towels and dressing gowns were both a natural result from their soaking and the fact that Ianto had hooked up a 29th century audio file with the radio episodes of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Martha was bent double and giggling hysterically, tears streaming, and Ianto was sprawled contentedly, looking the most relaxed and at ease as the Doctor had ever seen him. There was another set of pajamas and a dressing gown lying neatly folded on the couch, and a TARDIS blue mug full of tea on the side table, still full and steaming. After all, every good spaceship must have tea.

They made it through the fourth episode before they had to constantly shush the Doctor for trying to explain the TARDIS translation circuit relative to the Babel fish, and most of the fifth was lost during a session of earnest wheedling to get him to tell them about when he met Arthur Dent. He won that round when the TARDIS offered sticky treacle treats alongside the tea, and he held them as a captive audience with their teeth glued shut while telling them about the Key to Time, a pirate captain and the planet Calufrax. Martha fell asleep on the couch halfway through, as the boys sat side by side up against it. Ianto continued to listen with a drowsy smile, refraining from commentary even after the treacle was long gone. His head began to loll and the Doctor gave him a nudge.

"You doing alright?"

"Like a military academy," Ianto mumbled. "Bits of me keep passing out. Foot's asleep. Oi, you're the one who got possessed by a sentient sun, I should be asking you." The Doctor ran a hand through his hair and grinned ruefully.

"Not too keen to repeat the experience."

"I can't imagine why." Ianto yawned and turned to look at him, frowning suddenly. He bit his lip and looked away.

"What? S'matter?"

"Back in the stasis chamber on the Pentallian... you mentioned a process. Something that happens when you die." The Doctor's eyes went black and distant. "Okay, forget I asked." He twitched and snapped out of it, suddenly covering with the false cheerfulness.

"Nahh, s'alright, it's just..."

"Doctor..." Ianto began slowly. "I'm not harboring any illusions about all this. It's not safe and we're not invincible, I get that. But if there's something that we need to know... that you want us prepared for, you'll tell us?"

The Doctor sighed. "Okay. But not tonight. It's past your bedtime, young man." Ianto snorted.

"Playing the responsible adult doesn't suit you."

"I am 900 years older than you."

"Still doesn't make you the responsible adult."

"Fine. But I'm still the designated driver."

"Fair point." They lapsed into brief silence. "I'd like to visit Rhiannon tomorrow." The Doctor glanced at him warily. "Like I said, I harbor no illusions, and I'd like a chance to see her before I do fall into a sun, or catch hypothermia, or get my life force sucked out by an evolutionary throwback -" the Doctor was shifting uncomfortably, well aware of the dangers he had put them through. "And my _god_ it's been a busy week." Ianto ended. He looked back at the Doctor with a hint of a smile playing across his lips and a clear message in his eyes: _I am trying to be practical here, now stop looking so guilty about it because it's fine, it's all fine. _

"Do I have to come along? She's probably going to slap me." _And, we're okay._ Ianto chuckled.

"Only if I need you to back me up. She might try to have me sectioned if I tell her that I'm traveling through space and time in a phone box that's bigger on the inside in the company of a mad skinny alien and a medical student." Ianto bit his lip and reconsidered. "Then again, she'd probably just try to lock up the both of us. Maybe it'd be best if you just stuck around so that we can have a quick getaway."

"Oh, thanks," the Doctor drawled, then sat up with mock sobriety. "Reckon we should have the same plan if we drop in on Martha's mum?"

"Definitely. Also, we're out of toothpaste, coffee beans, and chocolate."

"Food machine?"

"Doesn't work, you said so yourself. Something about a fight to the death and a hover pad and a purple Jabba the Hut with even worse table manners. Besides, I didn't believe you and I tried it. It didn't work."

"Kitchen. Second drawer from the top in the hidden panel behind the lemon mustard-covered krikkix."

"Nope. I reorganized the kitchen when we were in stasis after that power surge. Unless you've been back in there mucking it up."

"It's my kitchen, I can muck it up if I like!"

"I can find stuff in it now! Also, we're out of bananas. And that fascinatingly hued fungus was looking at me funny. It had to go." The Doctor stared at him in horror, and Ianto snorted, covering his mouth with his hands.

"We can't giggle, Martha's sleeping!"

"But your face! It looked just like that!"

"But we're out of bananas!"

"Then you're taking us to Tesco's in the morning! Also, I want to catch up on rugby scores and election results." The Doctor gave him a light shove.

"Fine! Now go to bed!"

"But..." Ianto slouched. "Oh, okaaaaay. G'night, Doctor." He stood, caught sight of a dry towel and draped it over Martha's shoulders. He gave the Time Lord a gentle rap on the head with his knuckles and left the room with a huge yawn. The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair and sat there brooding for another hour, pondering life, the universe, how the three of them acted like a bunch of university flatmates on a gap year, how they couldn't decide who was the parent, how they had managed to establish domesticity without him noticing, and what Rose would think if she could see him now.


	27. Pterosaurs and Chocolate

**Second try at posting: ff seems to be acting up a bit.**

**Also, I don't exactly know what direction this chapter is going to take just yet. I did find a novel, Made of Steel, that falls at this part in canon and begins with the Doctor and Martha in the Cretaceous era before moving on to deal with cybermen that were unaffected by Voidstuff. But, since this story hinges on the fact that he stayed behind to clean up, there wouldn't be any such cybermen left. I'm thinking I might work with the Infinite Quest, amongst other things, but I'll plan to get you guys to Human Nature soon. On another note: more Harry Potter shoutouts, yay!**

**Third try at posting: I actually went and did the research. Also, I'm doing Made of Steel. The novel itself is kind of basic and offers a lot more creative license than the episodes. I've stuck to the plot but edited most of the text.**

* * *

><p>That morning, Martha entered the console room stiff and drowsy, clutching a half eaten piece of toast and mumbling about a distinct lack of anything resembling coffee. She observed Ianto with a dubious expression, trying to figure out what precisely was wrong with this picture.<p>

"What is it? Something on my face?" She shook her head slowly. No, that wasn't it.

"Oh! Suit. You're not wearing a suit." In place thereof was a white button down over a black t-shirt, faded blue jeans and a pale olive green hoodie. _Blimey, he looks so much younger._

"We do casual Fridays now," he said serenely.

"Oh, do we? Missed the memo." She glanced at the Doctor, who bounded in with another piece of toast and the jar of jam, in full pinstripes and swirly tie. "And so did he, I see."

"What? What did I do this time?" Ianto frowned.

"Doctor, what have I told you about sticking your fingers in the jam jar?" The Doctor withdrew his fingers guiltily.

"I don't carry germs!"

"TARDIS console controls? Buttons sticking, blowing a hole in the continuum? You came up with that yourself, follow your own rules. And let's not have a DIY Improbability Drive, please and thank you. I'm supposed to be visiting my sister."

"Oh, so that's why no suit?" Martha asked. Ianto gave an affirmative nod in her direction, and the Doctor took the opportunity to swipe another spot of jam. Ianto pointed at him sternly, catching him in the act with his finger in his mouth. He huffed. "Hang on, I don't think you've mentioned having a sister." Ianto scuffed the grating guiltily. "Ianto?" Martha scrutinized him. "Did you leave without saying goodbye?"

"I left a note?" he offered hopefully.

"Ianto..."

"I'm going back to visit _now_. And then we're going to go see your mum."

"Actually, _Martha _is going to see her mum, and we're picking up fresh bananas."

"And coffee." Martha practically perked up from the words alone. "We have chocolate, though, I found the secret stash in the back behind the potato bin." The Doctor grinned sheepishly. Martha took another bite of toast and gave them both disbelieving looks.

"You two? Grocery shopping? I can't picture it."

"Oh, I'm sure he'd do anything to stay out of slapping distance."

"Right, well I'm not responsible for any explosions or structural damage or general havoc that would come with you two in a shop."

"I can, in fact, behave myself in public," Ianto said with mock affront. "Thus far, my track record far exceeds his." The Doctor stuck his tongue out at Ianto, and proceeded to scoop out even more sticky fruit. Ianto rolled his eyes.

"That's true, I suppose. Is it alright if I come meet your sister?"

"I suppose that's only fair. I'm hoping for a chance to stop off in town and pick up something for her kids." He glanced at the Doctor. "Mum, can I have some pocket money?" The Doctor snorted and yanked a lever down and the TARDIS gave a savage jerk, tossing Martha to the floor and Ianto onto the console. The TARDIS landed and the Doctor grinned at him.

"Only if you did your homework. And, here we are! Cardiff, July 21, 2007. About one month after... after we left that note and if I'm not mistaken..." he beamed. "The release date of the seventh Harry Potter book, in case you two felt like picking up a newly minted edition." He bounded down the ramp as Ianto automatically passed him his coat. Martha paused thoughtfully.

"I actually have read book seven," she admitted. "Technically, you two picked me up in spring of 2008, which puts us at about a year out of sync."  
>They stepped out the doors and onto a windy hilltop overlooking a valley. Ianto said nothing, but merely gave the Doctor a look. The Time Lord shifted and shrugged.<p>

"Okay, okay, we're a bit off. July 21, 2007, somewhere in Wales, nearish Cardiff. You must've jarred the helmic regulator, no harm done, we'll just reset the coordinates and then -"

"Oh, my, _god, _Doctor, is that a pterodactyl?" Martha blurted out. Ianto sighed. A day's plan ruined with eight words.

* * *

><p>Having agreed on the Doctor being the bait, they lured the leathery, batlike creature to the crest of the hill by having him stand there waving a full size red nautical flag that had been crumpled into a ball and stored away in his pocket. It landed between the three of them as they spread out in formation, stalking them with surprisingly capable coordination. It wasn't half as clumsy on the ground as they had expected.<p>

"Oh, you are _beautiful!_" the Doctor exclaimed triumphantly. "Really, really, gorgeous!" And Ianto agreed with him, until it clacked its beak open and scolded them with a screech. "And not very happy, you miss your home, don't you, girl."

"How can you tell she's a girl?" Ianto wanted to know. "And what do pterodactyls actually eat?" They were soon subjected to an extensive monologue on the distinction between pterodactyls, pteranodons, and pterosaurs, the dimorphism of pteranodons, how they were attracted to red in the crests of the males, and a reassurance that they did not eat people, 'to which my mate Connor can testify.'

"So what's she doing in Wales?" Martha asked. "Oh!" She started as the creature feinted a sudden lunge at Ianto and he took a step backwards.

"Easy, easy, she's a bit spooked. Stuck out of her time in a strange place, probably came here through the rift." Ianto 'ahhed' in understanding, as Martha looked bewildered.

"So there's not much chance of getting her back home that way." The pteranodon minced towards Ianto, who tensed but didn't budge. He winced as she screeched again, rearing her head and eyeing him beadily. He gave a soft, piping whistle as she inched her way in his direction.

"Not much, no."

"So what do we do about her? Can't really let a live pterosaur running amok on the outskirts of Cardiff, hunting for sheep."

"We're going to bring her home ourselves!" the Doctor announced.

"Brilliant!" Martha agreed. "And we'll be doing that how?" The Doctor flapped his arm in the direction of the TARDIS.

"Time machine, Martha!"

"Are you kidding?" Martha giggled. "We'd never fit her through the TARDIS doors, not unless you've got a shrink ray packed away somewhere."

"And what have we learned about manipulating genetic coding?" the Doctor reminded them.

"...Not to."

"And who says I can't fit her through the TARDIS doors?"

Martha gaped. "Hang on. Can you?"

"Oh, basic localized mass inversion wave, the real question is, can you get her to follow us in?" The creature tilted her head and watched Ianto as he took a hesitant step forward.

"Should I try bowing?" he asked wryly, trying to keep eye contact with the great leathery reptile and not blink too much.

"I wouldn't much recommend it," the Doctor muttered. Ianto whistled again as she tossed her beak. He reached slowly into the pocket of his jacket and drew out a chocolate bar. "What are you doing?"

"What you do best. Improvising. Not sure what this is going to accomplish, but..." He tore the wrapper and broke off a square, tossing it gently. He beamed as she snapped it out of the air. "Woah!" He dodged backwards as she made another lunge towards him. He broke off another chunk, and another, and she waited patiently for him to toss them to her.

"_That's _the last of the chocolate," the Doctor said waspishly.

"Well, on the upside..." Ianto leaned forward tentatively and brushed the crest of her beak with the tips of his fingers. "I think she likes me." He beamed suddenly as the creature held still and accepted the touch, almost crooning. "Can I keep her, Doctor?" he asked cheekily. "Pleeeease?"

"No, we are not keeping the overgrown prehistoric chicken." The 'prehistoric chicken' cawed in objection and Ianto flinched, shushing her gently.

"It's okay, girl, he didn't mean it."

"Oh, for the love of Rassi- how would you housetrain a pteranodon? And watch your fingers!" Ianto took a step back and tossed another square of chocolate. She snapped it up, tossing her head back to swallow it, nearly swiping him in the process. She turned and butted him where he kept the bar in his pocket.

"I'm sure it's possible. And you have a whole bloody zoo, I'm sure she could live onboard quite happily." Ianto looked at him earnestly. The Doctor huffed but looked thoroughly amused.

"We get her into the TARDIS and back home to the Cretaceous. You're not to get too attached, understand?" Ianto hid a smile and kept stroking her beak. "Understand?"

"Yes, Doctor," he said innocently.

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><p><strong>I'm having trouble cranking out new chapters, so I'm afraid there will still be some waiting to do, but I have some semblance of a game plan and I'll be plugging along and doing the best I can. And thank you all so much for your reviews and feedback, it helps a ton!<strong>


	28. Pterosaurs and Chocolate: Pt 2

"Doctor?" Martha said in an undertone.

"Hmm?" He jostled a lever, sticking his tongue out between his teeth in concentration before giving her a quick nod. "Yep?"

"You said that the TARDIS gets inside our heads and translates any language to English, right? Like the Babel fish?"

"Just like that, yeah, why?"

"Ianto's speaking Welsh to the pterodact- pteranodon. Least it definitely sounds like Welsh. Why is it not translating that?"

"Oh, she does that," he said flippantly. "Partly because he's deliberately speaking Welsh, so she's deliberately not translating it, otherwise it would defeat the purpose of speaking it. Might as well speak English. And I reckon the TARDIS is giving him a hand with her. She doesn't translate pteranodon, but she's at least able to keep her calm. Like with that psychic link I told you about, well, a reptile's brain is a bit simpler, more straightforward, the TARDIS is able to project basic ideas into her mind like food, home, nestling..." He glanced over to where Ianto was seated on the metal ladder, face to face with a curious pterosaur. She was occasionally buffeting him in the face with her leathery wings, and nudging his chest with the ridge of her beak where she knew the sugary treat had disappeared to. "... and giver of chocolate. Ianto Jones, Pterosaur Whisperer. Huh." Ianto looked up and the Doctor caught his eye and pointed at him. "And if you'd better not be over there plotting to become a supervillain with an army of pterosaur minions." Ianto looked up innocently.

"I assure you, the thought hadn't even crossed my mind... although, now that you mention it..."

The TARDIS hummed and vworped and landed with minimal turbulence.

"There we are! Nice and smooth! 68 million years ago! Well, 68,500,000... well, 68,497,832 years ago. Allonsy!" The doors vibrated into a state of raw energy and the pteranodon followed them out into a clearing beside a lush prehistoric jungle. The air was thick with humidity and the cries of countless creatures. Martha's face lit up with fascination. Ianto smiled softly.

"Croeso cartref, Myfanwy," he murmured. The Doctor made a huffy noise in the back of his throat.

"Taking her back home, I said, don't get too attached, I said, and five minutes later he gives her a name." Myfanwy gave a screech and stretched her wings experimentally, eyeing Ianto in the hopes of more chocolate.

"All gone, girl," he whispered, stroking her beak. "Time for you to go home." With another shrill cry, she launched herself into the air, gave a few cumbersome flaps and glided over the treetops.

"So what d'you say we stick around for a bit?" the Doctor said brightly. "Loads to see! Here, grab a few of those palm fronds." He reached into his pockets and fished out a battered, bugle-like object, humming into it to produce a curious sound. "Works like a duck call," he explained. "Though on a slightly larger scale, obviously. Appeals to animals slightly larger than ducks too. Which is useful – because there aren't any ducks yet. Here we go!" A ponderous creature with stumpy legs and a vast body galumphed into view through the treetops. "Your turn now, Martha. Take it steady, it's not as jumpy as a pterosaur but it's timid." Martha stood tentatively on her toes and held up the fronds.

"Timid, and the size of a flippin' house!" she laughed nervously as the tiny head snaked down and snatched the palm fronds from her hand, raising it again to munch away. "Sure it's not interested in me for afters?"

'Oh, you'll be all right,' the Doctor assured her. 'It's an Apatosaurus – strictly vegetarian. Well, almost strictly.' He paused to consider. 'Or nearly almost. Maybe it eats vegetarians. Might even eat chocolate as well. I don't think cacao beans have started to grow yet, though."

"Speaking of chocolate, look who's back!" Myfanwy was circling above the clearing, shrieking and flapping, before alighting once again.

Ianto frowned. "Is it just me, or does she seem bothered?"

"You tell me, O' Pterosaur Whisperer. She might just be readjusting to the change in temperature, or she has a wing cramp, or is just doing short flights to get her bearings, although..." the Doctor knelt put his right hand to the ground, feeling the pebbles tremble.

"Earthquake tremor? Nearby volcano, maybe?" Martha suggested. The Apatosaurus gave a shrill scream of terror, wheeled round and lumbered away with surprising speed. The ground shook with a prominent _thwump, _and another, and another.

"Well, that took all of three minutes and twenty-eight seconds," Ianto sighed as a dark shadow fell across the clearing and they slowly turned.

"Ohh, _brilliant_!" Ianto and Martha spared the Doctor an incredulous stare as he gazed delightedly at a towering Tyrannosaurus with big, sharp, nasty teeth.

"And by brilliant, I really hope you mean run," Martha hissed, not taking her eyes off of it.

"Back away slowly, don't make any sudden movements until it does," Ianto murmured back, watching both the dinosaur king and a still grounded Myfanwy with apprehension. The pteranodon gave a tiny squawk and shuffled nearer to him, giving the T-Rex pause as it sussed out which of them looked tastier. A massive, scaly head with far too many teeth lunged for them, and the Doctor yanked Martha back by the hand towards the TARDIS. More concerned with reflex than direction, Ianto split away, diving to the side and rolling through a patch of ferns to end up beside an indignant Myfanwy. He heard Martha yell something indistinctly as too many teeth clashed where they had been standing, and in a split second he formulated an incredibly stupid plan. It didn't even deserve to be called a plan, and improvisation barely did it justice. He latched on to Myfanwy's scaly leg as she took to wing with a wail, and found himself airborne.

Later on, he would be astonished to consider the speed with which they were lifted and the fact that the pterosaur could support his weight. At the present moment, he was rather more occupied with the Tyrannosaurus rearing up in an attempt to snatch them out of the air. The teeth snapped closed about six feet below his ankle and he realized that they were gaining serious height as the dinosaur king below grew smaller and smaller and every flap and buffet of Myfanwy's wings threatened to toss him earthward. Then came the realization of bloody hell, he was _flying. _Clinging to the talons of a prehistoric creature and soaring over a jungle in the Cretaceous era and leaving a roaring Tyrannosaurus in the dust.

The Doctor dashed back into the TARDIS and began frantically pushing buttons, and Martha slammed the doors shut.

"Martha, I need you over here, I've set us a pattern, now pull down that lever and hold it there until I say when, and when you let go you need to flip that grubbly red handle and hold it there, and _don't let go,_ got it?" Martha tugged the lever in question and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Am I gonna help you fly the TARDIS?"

"Yes you are!" The console rumbled and he grabbed the mallet, bashing on a wire. "Dashedly tricky business, this, and it's better with an extra set of hands, _the idiot, _dunno what the hell he was thinking!_"_ _Thump!_ went the mallet and the console sparked indignantly. The TARDIS jerked up like a rollercoaster, nearly yanking them to the floor. The Doctor rebounded off the control seat and flung himself back at the controls. Martha clutched the lever and smiled weakly.

"Is he gonna be alright?"

"Working on it!" The Doctor ran for the doors and threw them open into mid-air. Something between a delighted whoop and a panicked holler was carried on the wind and Martha caught a glimpse around the console of Ianto dangling in the air as the TARDIS kept a jerky pace with Myfanwy. "Come on, come on, come on," the Doctor mumbled. "_Oi! _Ianto! When I say when, let go!" There was an indistinct reply as the Doctor anchored himself on the rails. "_WHEN!"_ Martha lunged for the handle and twisted it, feeling an odd sensation as her body caught itself midflight and lowered itself against the console. Ianto was all but thrown through the doors at an angle and would have hit the grate with a crunch were it not for a similar effect. The Doctor grabbed the back of his jacket and caught him in his trajectory. Ianto caught on to one of the rails as the Doctor slammed the doors shut.

"Temporary gravitational shift! Martha, we're good, you can let go." Ianto slid down the rails and hit the ramp with a dull thump, shaking with adrenaline and laughing uncontrollably. Martha nearly jumped, not used to hearing an outburst of any kind from him. The Doctor's face warred between sternness, amazement and relief, and he finally sputtered out a slightly hysterical "You idiot!" The TARDIS console sparked again and a klaxon alarm bleated at them. "Oh! Flying!" the Doctor yelled, racing back up to the console. The TARDIS jarred and jolted as they were thrown into the vortex.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh God I AM SO SORRY! *Hides in Box of Shame* Made of Steel proved to be a bit of a rubbish decision on my part. I cut out loads and added new stuff and it got to a point where I had written enough that I didn't want to give up and start other stuff so it just sort of dragged on and on and on. Also, I spent three weeks in the U.K. and Ireland and had nil computer access at the time so I couldn't make final edits and publish.<strong>

**Enough of my excuses, you guys have been amazing, thank you all so much for your reviews and encouragement and reminders! More chapters will follow immediately, since you've all been so patient.**

**It's probably impossible for a pteranodon to support the weight of an adult human male while in flight, but hey, it worked in Fragments! **


	29. Made of Steel: Pt 1

**Like the episodes, I'm writing stuff from our beloved heroes' POV and some context is missing from the scenes you don't see but are still in source material. Like what the cybermen are doing, and what the 'Military Intelligence' people are up to.**

* * *

><p>Ianto pulled himself up, shucking his green hoodie and hanging it on the coat rack.<p>

"Is she going to be alright, Doctor?" The Time Lord raced around the console, tweaking settings and giving the occasional thump with the mallet, rattling away as he went.

"Oh, yeah, she's back home, safe and sound, where she belongs, although no hope of finding anymore chocolate, but happier than she'd be cooped up in here." Ianto smiled.

"I meant the TARDIS, actually, last time you flew her like this she wasn't too happy."

"Yes! Good point! But, last time there was the added factor of an imbalance of huon particles. Also, we picked up a bit of Rift energy, not a full refuel but just a bit of a top-off to keep her happy. So right now the old girl's in a decent mood, so we're headed back to your sector of spacetime and should be able to land without any hassle. She'll still need a bit of time to regroup, so we can muck about a bit closer to home for a few hours until she's sorted. Annnnndd... I'm picking up some funny readings from there, hold on..." He pulled on his brainy specs and examined a set of dials. Ianto circled the console once, with a spring in his step, before slinging himself neatly into the console seat. Martha leaned on the panel, watching the Doctor inquisitively.

"What sort of readings?"

'All sorts of stuff. Energy spikes, transmit signatures, Radio 5 Live. Maybe someone's using a teleportation device.'

"Teleportation? Cool."

"Except when it feels like getting your innards squeezed out through your ears," Ianto said cheerfully.

"Oh, pleasant."

"Could also be a digital radio, or maybe cellular dissemination." Martha shook her head.

"And, you've lost me there."

'Matter transmission – the instant movement of objects from place to place. Well, I say objects – could be people. Even buildings."

"Like the Royal Hope hospital?"

"Exactly! And, tell you what, we can stop off there. Car park'll make a nice flat open space for the TARDIS to recuperate, you can stop in for a visit, and I can go poking about for whatever's causing this."

"Alright, brilliant. So what's so important about this that you're going to go poking about?"

"For starters, it's impossible," the Doctor said sternly. "The technology hasn't been invented in your time."

"Maybe someone's invented it," Martha suggested. "Some mad scientist. Again."

"Unlikely." The Doctor frowned. 'I think someone's using alien technology. Possibly an alien. They sort of go together, I find."

Ianto sat up. "Not necessarily." The Doctor looked over his shoulder to catch Ianto's significant glance, pursed his lips and nodded.

"Good point."

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" The Doctor hesitated, but flashed a bright grin, doffing the brainy specs and sticking them in his pockets.

"Whatever this is, we'll find out!" The TARDIS wheezed into place and gave a couple of insistent beeps. "Here we are! An unkidnapped Royal Hope Hospital."

"Brilliant. Come on, Ianto, I'll introduce you to my mates." Ianto hesitated. Before he could answer, the Doctor shook his head.

"No, you won't, on two counts. One, he was a patient there, they might remember him and ask awkward questions, and B, he's coming with me because he's grounded for reckless behavior with that little stunt and I'm not letting him out of my sight." Ianto rolled his eyes but didn't argue. He just got his excuse to not socialize. Dinosaurs were one thing, but he was less than enthused about suddenly dropping back into normality and making idle 21st century chitchat.

"Grounded, very nice," Martha giggled. The Doctor winked.

"Ah-thank you! Off you go, then, enjoy your reunion. We'll meet you back here in a couple of hours."

* * *

><p>They meandered through the hubbub of downtown London near the hospital, onto a side street lined with bookshops and cafes. They had stopped at one point to subtly 'sonic up' a cash machine before Ianto broached the topic. "So, teleportation. Any theories?"<p>

"Seventeen, and twelve wild conjectures."

"Any of them likely?"

"About three, and one of them's a wild conjecture. Aha! Perfect!" The Doctor pushed through the glass door of a run-down internet cafe. The alert system on the door gave a pleasant _ding!_ as they headed in.

"Are you actually doing _research_ for a case?" Ianto asked, mock aghast.

The Doctor grinned. "I know, inconceivable!"

"I do not think that word means what you think it means," Ianto replied without missing a beat. The Doctor gave a delighted bark of laughter and scampered up to the counter to purchase computer time and coffees. Ianto leaned against a table as the Doctor gabbled about nothing in particular to the man behind the counter, before hesitating and turning back. Ianto withdrew the wallet from his pocket and waggled it at him. The Doctor scowled.

When Ianto brought the coffees over from the counter, he found the Time Lord staring vaguely at the keyboard of his computer terminal. He accepted one of the cups of coffee, took a massive gulp, and grimaced.

"You've spoiled me, it's not half as good as yours." Ianto smirked. He leaned up against the dividing wall on the end of the row and took a sip of his own as the Doctor began typing rapidly, pulling up news channels. He tried reading over his shoulder, but the Doctor seemed to absorb the contents almost instantaneously, and he gave up when it started making his eyes hurt. He grumbled to himself about 'bloody super-Time-Lord senses.' At the next computer, a dark haired young woman with a briefcase, a law student who appeared to be researching her thesis, grinned curiously at them.

"You boys working on a project or something?"

Ianto pressed his lips into a thin smile. "He's researching extraterrestrial conspiracy theories. It's all a load of rubbish but he hasn't got a bloody clue about writing an essay -"

"Oi!" The Doctor paused in his typing for a split second, remarked 'Actually, brilliant!' while still staring at the screen, and kept on.

"And you?"

"Helping him cite his sources, and waiting patiently for when we start running for our lives from aliens," he said blandly. She giggled a bit.

"Careful what you wish for," the Doctor muttered.

* * *

><p>Having checked and double-checked the dates, Martha realized that it was only a day after the adventure at Lazarus Laboratories, and a day before Election day. She had been absent from the hospital for two days. Many of the Royal Hope wards were still empty. A majority of patients had been transferred to other facilities to allow for clean-up and repairs, and people were too reluctant to patronize the place.<p>

Her flat was within walking distance from the hospital, and her mother's house was a short cab ride away, be she couldn't go and visit because their phone conversation hadn't happened yet. Thankfully, Oliver Morgenstern spotted her she could acknowledge that those warped tenses _made sense_, and she greeted him with a broad grin and a warm hug. He filled her in on what she had missed since the Judoon Incident as they slowly meandered through the empty halls.

"I'm not really sure if I'm back for the long run," she admitted. "It's been a busy couple of days, and Mum's been worried about everything, but I at least wanted to come and see how things were holding up."

"I was worried you weren't going to be back at all," he said ruefully. "Half our group's trying to get transfers, I think it's only me, Julia, Neal and Eric left. A lot of the main staff are refusing to set foot back in the building, and with Mr. Stoker gone, this place is having a hard time getting organized. We've got Chambers in charge now, and he's trying to make the best of things." Martha nodded sympathetically.

"Did we lose any patients?"

"A few," Oliver said quietly. "Some from asphyxiation, or shock, or when their life support was cut off. One of them panicked and tried to attack the... rhino-things. He was shot right in front of me." Martha grimaced and squeezed his shoulder gently. "It could have been worse. It could have been everybody. But nobody's talking about it at all," he went on. "The people who've stayed are trying to pretend it never happened. Same with the papers, they've chalked it up to drugs and hallucinations again. Even people who were here when everything happened seem to believe that."

"It's that weirdness censor thing, isn't it?" Martha supplied. "Strange stuff happens, nobody wants to believe it, so they shut their eyes and stick their fingers in their ears and tell themselves that everything's normal."

"Sunnydale Syndrome," Oliver smiled. "I've taught you well. And I've started paying attention, been reading up on things. Forums, conspiracy networks... it's all a bit mad, and there's plenty of nutters, but if you know what to look for, there's a bit more than meets the eye. Especially when separate events have common factors connecting them. There's this... figure that keeps cropping up."

"What kind of..." she mimicked his face. "...figure?" He teetered on the edge of sharing, but stopped himself.

"I'll get back to that, listen, there's something else happening. It's a bit fishy at the moment, but I thought you ought to know -"

"That's quite enough socializing, Morgenstern," a commanding voice called from the end of the ward.

"Chambers, he's starting his rounds, gotta run. But listen, it's cybermen."

"What?"

"There's no proof, seeing as the eyewitnesses keep getting locked up, I think whoever knows is trying to keep the public from panicking -"

"Morgenstern!"

"Just keep your eyes open, okay?" Martha nodded as he clapped her gently on the shoulder and hurried off. She headed out, through the lobby and straight for the TARDIS, wondering how fast it would take the Doctor and Ianto to work it out.

* * *

><p>The law student jumped as the skinny geek at the next computer groaned and let his head fall forward into his hands, running his fingers through his hair and rubbing his face. She wondered vaguely where his friend had scarpered off to earlier.<p>

"You alright, mate?"

"Fine! Yeah, fine," he said quickly. He tossed back the cold dregs of his cappuccino and stood up abruptly, signing off.

"Found all you wanted, then?" the girl asked cautiously.

'Oh yes. Rather more than I wanted, actually.' The Doctor gave her another smile, a rather sad one this time, and scanned the seats for a bored Welshman. "Argh! And lost something, too. Every time, I say don't wander off..." The girl watched with a bemused expression as he swished out the door in his magnificent coat, growling to himself.

As it was, Ianto had stayed close at hand, and was already striding purposefully back to the coffee shop as the Doctor emerged with a face like thunder. He half expected a lecture for wandering off but received only a curt "Hospital, Martha, TARDIS, now." Ianto fell into step with him, pulling a new mobile phone from his pocket and holding it out. The Doctor drew his screwdriver automatically.

"Where'd you get that?" Ianto jerked his head at the electronics shop on the corner as the Doctor buzzed the phone, still walking.

"They thought it was a bit fishy that I was paying in cash, not to mention neglecting to sign up with a network," he began. "I also remember who Mr. Saxon is now, but in any case they told me why security was higher. Between that and this," he flapped a folded newspaper, "I found out about the raids on MegaTech and Chadwick Green." The Doctor glanced at him once before sliding his eyes away back to the distance. Ianto took his expression as confirmation. "And I take it you did too."

"You know that wild conjecture I mentioned earlier?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, it's not that one. This one was number twelve. The most impossible of them all."

He took one look at the Doctor and shook his head in resignation. "It's bad, isn't it?"

"Yep." The Doctor pressed his lips into a thin line.

"How bad?"

"Cybermen. Cybermen bad."

* * *

><p><strong>Morgenstern doesn't actually figure in Made of Steel, but I liked him in Smith and Jones. I think he's got potential as a supporting characterTin Dog, so he might pop up once in a while from here on out.**


	30. Made of Steel: Pt 2

Martha was headed for the TARDIS when when the air between her and the box began to shimmer. 'Trouble' instincts kicked in and she slowed, watching it warily. She rubbed her eyes and blinked, and immediately ruled out the more optimistic possibilities of 'trick of the light' or ' just her eyes.' Inside the air pocket, a human-shaped blur solidified into a human-shaped figure made of steel armor. It had a curiously cobbled-together look, as though someone was given a design but none of the right materials.

The Cyberman spoke. '_Where is the Doctor_?'

Martha took a hesitant step back, and tried to keep her expression neutral. "Doctor who?"

_'We have monitored a double heartbeat at this location. The Doctor has a double heartbeat. Where is the Doctor?'_

"This is a hospital, there's loads of doctors!"

_'This box was seen inside the Torchwood Tower. Is the Doctor inside?'_

"What's Torchwood?" _No, seriously, what was Torchwood,_ she wondered. Ianto had mentioned the name once in regards to Canary Wharf, but hadn't offered any details.

The Cyberman stretched out an arm, and the barrel of a weapon clicked into place at the wrist. She took another step back.

_'We require the Doctor. Without the Doctor you are useless to us. This is your final warning. Tell us where to find the Doctor or you will be deleted.'_

"OI! Tin man!" Martha's heart leaped as the Doctor strode into view from behind a van, coat sweeping dramatically in the wind. He folded his arms and glared at the cyberman, before tossing his head proudly, beaming, and turning on his heel to swish back behind the vehicle. The cyberman pounded away in his direction and she took the opportunity to make a dash for the TARDIS. There was a scuffing noise from between two cars and Ianto darted out, grabbed her hand and practically dragged her into the police box.

"What about him?" Martha protested. Ianto ran up to the console and fired up the scanner in time to see the Doctor racing for the ship, having dodged the cyberman. His eyes widened suddenly.

"Oh, bad, bad, very bad -" his words segued into Welsh. The Doctor had successfully evaded one cyberman only to to run smack dab into a second as it materialized. He struggled against its grip, but the air shimmered again. Both cybermen vanished, leaving him standing in the middle of the carpark, looking about wildly. As soon as they saw him step safely through the TARDIS doors, Ianto slumped into the console seat and ran his fingers through his hair. "That was a terrible plan!"

"Excuse me! That plan worked perfectly!"

"The thing caught you!"

" ...Minor snag! The _essence_ of the plan worked, you two got away. Besides, they disappeared, they both did!"

"Why did they disappear?" Martha asked.

"Equipment malfunction! Well, that's my working hypothesis, anyway."

"And do you mind telling us what the hell -" Ianto stood up and glowered "- are cybermen _doing on Earth?_" The Doctor chewed his lip but kept his enthusiasm undeterred.

"Working on that bit! Martha, is there somewhere we can go and get a cup of tea? I need to think."

* * *

><p>"- never knew cybermen to be able to teleport, must have gotten a hold of alien technology, alien to them, but never mind <em>that,<em> it doesn't make any sense. All of the cybermen were sucked into the void, and the ones that weren't affected by voidstuff were dismantled by me." Ianto looked up sharply. He groaned out loud, letting his forehead fall to the surface of the counter with a thunk. "What? what is it?"

"You never got into the secure archives, did you?" he mumbled. The Doctor stilled, and waited for him to elaborate. "It was huge. They could have built multiple conversion units as they started to infiltrate the Tower. It was the most secure place in the tower, with access to all kinds of equipment. You saw them yourself, they weren't whole cybermen, they were pieced together with bits of alien tech from the archives. And there were modified teleportation devices on record, which could explain how they got that ability." The Doctor nodded slowly.

"So they had a reserve group. One that was created with materials from this side, unaffected by voidstuff, possibly before they even began the invasion. They could have broken out during the battle to keep a few troops as a back-up."

Martha frowned. "Why was there alien tech in Canary Wharf tower?" They looked at her, then slowly looked at each other. "Does it have anything to do with... with Torchwood?" she asked tentatively. "I've heard you both use that word before." The Doctor sighed.

"Once we've dealt with the cybermen, we will tell you about Torchwood. But not right now. Okay?"

Martha watched from the check-out counter of the hospital canteen as the Doctor and Ianto huddled over their little table in the corner. The boys were 'all-business,' obviously displeased by the presence of the cybermen but ready to throw everything into the problem. Out of danger for the time being, it struck Martha that Ianto wasn't frightened the way he had been with the Daleks; his sense of supremely unconcerned composure had instead given way to a steely determination. She knew he avoided talking about Canary Wharf at all costs, but whatever he had seen must have cut him deeply. Other monsters, creatures, and persons of dubious morals were treated with indifference and disdain, whether it was all for show or honestly his opinion: there was no better tactic for throwing a villain off kilter, except, perhaps, laughing at them. The fact that he honestly viewed the cybermen as a threat, and behaved as such, gave their situation a bit more weight.

"Martha, can I have a word?" Morgenstern cornered her as she picked up packets of sugar, practically twitching as his eyes darted warily around the cafeteria.

"Oliver, what's going on? You look..." he wasn't just nervous, he looked terrified. Then he jerked his head towards the Doctor, before ducking his head and turning back to her.

"It's _him! _I told you there was a common thread, this figure that kept cropping up, it's _him_, his face is all over the conspiracy sites, he was here when the Judoon attacked the hospital, he was at Canary Wharf last summer, and Deffrey Vale before that -" Martha held up her hand.

"Oliver," she began in a soothing voice.

" - and now he's back when there's cybermen showing up in London -"

"Oliver, it's okay, really..."

"What's taking you so long?" Oliver jumped like a frightened rabbit. Martha turned around to see that the Doctor had followed them and was standing behind her, head cocked to the side.

"Can you not wait _five minutes_ for tea?"

The Doctor considered this. "No." Martha made a face and chucked a packet of sugar at him. He reached up and snatched it out of the air. Oliver stared.

"What's going on?" His voice had dropped in volume and risen in pitch. "Are you with him?"

"Oooh, not this again, please?" the Doctor muttered.

"You, play nice," Martha said briskly. "Oliver, umm..." There was no concise way to explain herself, or an adequate excuse to get rid of him. For that matter, she wasn't that interested in getting rid of him. That was up to the Doctor, in which case... "Tea." She handed him one of the mugs of tea, picked up the other two and headed for the table. She set one down for Ianto and one in the Doctor's place. The Doctor shrugged and followed her, tearing open the pack of sugar with his teeth. Oliver hesitated, but curiosity won out as he sat stiffly at the fourth chair. Ianto looked amused, and took a sip of his tea. Martha pointed at the Doctor.

"You explain."

* * *

><p>Far from disbelief (though thrilled to learn about the existence of time travel) Oliver was mostly peeved and a bit envious that Martha had been off on adventures and hadn't told him what she was up to.<p>

"I haven't even told my Mum about this, Oliver," Martha said with a smile. "It's practically my first day home aside from that thing with Professor Lazarus -"

"That was you lot as well?"

"...Yep. Besides, I didn't think anyone would have believed me if I told them."

"Space rhinos in the workplace!"

"Keep your voice down."

"Sorry. So since you're here, does that mean you're going to get rid of the cybermen?"

"That's the plan."

"And that's_ all_ of the plan," Ianto interjected dryly.

"You don't have a plan?"

"Of course we have a plan. Get rid of the cybermen."

Oliver nodded. "Nice plan."

Ianto smiled weakly. "It's fairly consistent with the rest of his plans."

"Working on it! I need more information." The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "We know that there's only a few of them; not enough time or resources to build many, and they've only been witnessed in onesie-twosies. We know they have faulty teleportation with a signal that is probably at a short radius, so they're somewhere nearbyish, and I can locate them with this -" he set the sonic screwdriver on the table, " since teleportation fields always leave an energy residue. We know that -"

"_You_ know that, Doctor, and you're telling us."

"Well... yes. Right. We know that their main objective is to bring back their whopping big army and have another invasion. I know that that's very, very impossible. They don't. They think I can bring back their army since I banished it in the first place. _Quod erat demonstrandum,_ they're after me."

"And they're not the only ones, by the looks of things." Ianto nodded pointedly at the door. A fair-haired, sharp-looking woman in a military officer's uniform entered the cafeteria, flanked by two armed guards with red caps. The Doctor was obscured for the time being, still sitting in the corner with Oliver and the Joneses standing in front of the table.

"How do we know they're here for me?" Ianto said nothing, just continued to hold eye contact. "Oh, fair point."

"The police have been here, asking questions about you, I'm betting someone saw you and called them in," Oliver said quickly.

"Well, they look like military police, they might be here about the cybermen."

"They're not UNIT, are they?" Ianto asked.

"Nah, UNIT's in the naughty corner at the moment. Also, wrong insignia. You lot make yourselves scarce, I'll see what they're after." Oliver took off his stethoscope and set it around Martha's neck, and they moved away casually, improvising a conversation about blood transfusions. Ianto stayed put. The Doctor sighed. "Ianto, I can play nicely with the other children. But since they've got the guns, I'd like to keep them away from you three for the time being." He frowned. "Granted, I'd love to keep the cybermen away from you as well, but I'm afraid I'm going to need you to find out what you can from this end." Ianto nodded once. "Setting 29." Another nod. Ianto pocketed the screwdriver.

"Mind you behave yourself, then." He picked up his mug of tea and went to sit at another table, slightly angled away. He witnessed the exchange between the Doctor and the officer, Captain Sarandon. She and the guards were about to escort him from the hospital when she asked about his companion.

"My what, sorry?"

"According to the files, there's always a companion. Usually an attractive young female. Where is she?" The Doctor winced, scuffed his foot and grinned sheepishly.

"Wandered off. As they usually do. Well... I really hope he's wandered off and wasn't within earshot when you said that."

"He?"

"Yep." The Doctor scratched the back of his neck, catching Ianto's expression from the corner of his eye and convinced that he could hear his voice in his head: "We are having words about your employment criteria."


	31. Made of Steel: Pt 3

**So, during my two week back-packing trip I missed the anniversary of this fic's publication. Consider this the one year mark of Second Star to the Right! We've made it to this point with a wordcount of nearly 80,000, a review count of 287, and 347 followers. You guys are amazing, this story wouldn't have gotten anywhere without your support. **

**On this sort of almost not quite anniversary, I hereby declare that Second Star to the Right is officially now and forever dedicated to Aleda.**

**On a note of technical stuff, I somewhat reshuffled and rewritten and reworked various chapters in an effort to get the hang of my own continuity and headcanon. So if you're looking for the Epilogue to The Runaway Bride, it can be found rewritten over at Faith, Trust and Pixie Dust over on my profile. I may move over my other epilogues and in between scenes: haven't sorted that out yet. But I will be posting other chapters there which will all be an important part of this AU, so please, by all means read and follow.**

* * *

><p>Ianto watched as the Doctor sauntered out of the hospital, all scrawny between the two burly guards. He poked his head around the corner and spotted Martha and Oliver in an empty ward, and while their charade was no longer necessary they still conversed animatedly in hushed voices. He hesitated briefly, thought to include them, but turned away and left.<p>

He exited through the lobby, keeping a low profile in the carpark as the Doctor, chatting amiably at Captain Sarandon, was taken away in an army staff car. His heart sank as he watched the TARDIS lifted into a lorry like the illegally parked vehicle that it was. Thankfully, it appeared to be following the army car, so hopefully the Doctor and the TARDIS would stay together.

Ianto stepped into the empty space, pulsing the sonic screwdriver. It blipped cheerfully. And there was the rub: the coordinates that registered in the teleportation residue were stored within the screwdriver, and he would need to plug it into the TARDIS to isolate the location on the scanner. But the concept was straightforward enough: perhaps it wouldn't require a scanner. He might be able to interface with a basic hospital computer. And if he could do that... he pulled out his new mobile and buzzed it experimentally. The screen went haywire, flashed through sequences of data, and settled on a series of geographical coordinates: 51.5028° N, 0.0031° E. Ianto smiled slightly, just a tad pleased with himself, before firing off the coordinates in a text to Martha and stepping quickly away from the parking space.

He barely made it three paces. The air warped and shimmered in front of him, and by the time that had registered with him a cyberman materialized. Ianto froze, inhaled sharply, and in a moment of panicked clarity, silenced his mobile.

_"You are not the Doctor - yet you carry his sonic device."_

Ianto opened his mouth but no sound came out. The cyberman stared at him for a ridiculously long split-second and seemed to come to a decision. It reached out and clamped a metal hand around his arm. There came the sensation of his innards being squeezed out his ears, and the car park was abruptly left silent and deserted.

* * *

><p>"Oww! Captaaaaaain! He's doing it again! He keeps jogging me in the ribs!" Captain Sarandon glanced at the skinny alien in the backseat, who was ineffectually swatting at the guard's shoulders. "Nyeh!" He stuck his tongue out, earning himself a glare and a shove. She resisted the urge to heave a heavy sigh and bury her face in her hands. She didn't feel like a polished military officer escorting an eccentric galactic scientist to a consultation regarding a matter of planetary security. She felt like she was fourteen years old and minding her little brother and the boys next door all over again.<p>

"That's enough," she said sternly. Peace and quiet reigned for five, four, three, two, one...

"Are we there yet?"

"We'll be there soon." _And it will never be soon enough._

"Good. Can I have sandwiches when we get there? I didn't get to finish lunch. When I broke into UNIT, they had sandwiches."

"I'll see what I can do."

"This car is slow. And it smells funny." She ignored him. "Ooh, look, there's a hawk on the sign!"

"That's very nice, Doctor."

"So, where are we going, anyway?"

"Army research centre, just outside London," she replied evenly.

"Oh, Chadwick Green? Read about you lot. Nasty business, all those break-ins. You do know it wasn't me? Just this once."

"Yes, we're aware, thank you. And no more questions till we arrive, please, Doctor – then we'll be asking them."

"Oh, now that's a surprise. Big surprise. Surprise so big you could paint it red and call it a bus – oiii! Captain, he did it again!"

She closed her eyes slowly and ground her teeth. The Doctor was a handful on his own, but the police escorts were not making things easier for any of them. "Hands to yourself, both of you."

The driver of the car chuckled, and she frowned at him. He wiped the grin off his face.

"Sorry, Ma'am."

"Just drive the car."

* * *

><p>"Isn't Chambers going to get on your case?" Martha asked, quickening her steps to keep up with Oliver as they headed towards the lockers by the main lobby.<p>

"I'm technically on break, Neal's taken over." He undid the combination lock and Martha peered inside.

"Are those..."

"Judoon blasters. Yep. And I was surprised, too, they seemed so - organized, like they wouldn't just leave these behind by accident. But I found them in one of the exam rooms, like they were set aside during the search."

Martha stared. "You've been keeping alien weapons in your locker?"

Oliver gave a helpless shrug. "I didn't know what else to do with them. I didn't want to just hand them over to the nearest authorities just so they could... I don't know, patent and mass produce them or something. They're the kinds of things people would try to use, not just destroy or lock up for safekeeping. And so when you showed up I thought maybe your Doctor would know what to do with them."

Martha grinned ruefully. "Glad you weren't showing us these when the army came in. Come on, we'll go find Ianto and keep these in the TARDIS."

* * *

><p>Major Burton looked up as a man with a swirly tie, untidy dark hair and a cheerful grin scampered into his office, followed by Captain Sarandon and the two guards. He rose politely from behind his desk, noting the effort that the captain was putting into her impassive expression and the undisguised annoyance on the guards' faces.<p>

"Captain Sarandon. You've brought a visitor to see me."

"It might be more accurate to say that he brought us, sir," she replied ruefully.

The Doctor beamed innocently as the two policemen were dismissed. "Right, then," he said briskly, "I take it you're Major Burton. You're in charge here?"

"I like to think so."

"And I'd like to think that the Army and the police would have learned how to ask people nicely when you want to consult them about threats to your planet." The Doctor looked at him pointedly. "Wellll, at least I'm going to assume that that's why I'm here." Gone was the petulant little imp playing territory games in the backseat, here and now a confident, professional adult. Sarandon frowned, slightly resentful that he would behave as an adult towards Burton but not her.

"More or less, yes."

"And, in order to persuade me to assist you, you had me arrested in public, thrown in a car with a couple of gorillas and whizzed down here." Burton opened his mouth to speak and was cut off with "Oh, and _then _I was elbowed in the ribs. Don't forget I was elbowed in the ribs." Okay, maybe he was like this all the time.

Burton conceded with a nod. "I'm sorry if you feel our methods were abrupt, Doctor, but there is a crisis. Won't you have a seat?"****  
><strong>**

"And that's the only reason I'm letting it slide this time." He dropped unceremoniously in a gangle of limbs into the chair in front of Burton's desk.

"You hardly let it slide, Doctor," Sarandon remarked calmly. "I half expected you to bite them."

And, honest to god, their bizarre guest _giggled_. "Yeah, well, don't think I wasn't tempted. Anyway, crisis. You lot wanted to ask me about the cybermen, correct?" Both sets of eyebrows shot up. "Cybermen? Big... metal stompy robots, raiding your base? You didn't know? Bit behind the power curve, aren't we? Please don't tempt me to make a military intelligence joke."

Sarandon had resisted the urge to make a similar comment earlier that day and found herself amused. She was loathe to let it show, both considering herself too professional, and unwilling to let the Doctor think he could get away with charming his way out of things. She stepped forward and said coolly, "The information regarding the cyberman raid is classified. Which makes you suspiciously well-informed."

The Doctor snorted. "Classified? It's splashed across the internet on every conspiracy site and UFO blog - funny thing, blogging, 'cause it's actually a habit that predates computers and doesn't ever seem to end until the last syllable of recorded time - anyway, cybermen, all over the place with the crop circles and the Mayan calendar and the shiny frisbees in the sky and you really shouldn't scare off my companions, because I need someone around to tell me to focus."

Burton sighed. "The authorities were aware of a series of incidents at Christmas of 2006 and 2007, Deffrey Vale school, Canary Wharf, Royal Hope Hospital and Lazarus Laboratories. They've issued a series of confidential reports which do not detail the precise nature of the threats involved, but are fairly clear in every case that they were of an extraterrestrial nature. And in every case, the threats were dealt with primarily by someone known as the Doctor, or under the assumed name of Dr. John Smith. Why don't you tell us what you know about the cybermen."

The Doctor sighed. "I've already had to explain this all once. Can't I have some sandwiches first?"

* * *

><p>Martha shrugged on the white coat that she'd left in her locker and they each stowed a blaster between layers of clothing. Martha peered around the corner into the lobby.<p>

"There's still a bunch of police and army blokes wandering about, they might still be looking for me and Ianto. Oliver?"

"Yep?"

"You know how you're really rubbish at trying to not look guilty?"

"Am I?"

"You blink a lot, you get all jumpy - don't look like that, I can name three separate events offhand, and you weren't even doing anything shady. Like that time I caught you singing in the lab, and -"

"You've made your point. Let's go the other way."

They were headed outside to the opposite side of the building when Martha's phone chirped.

"It's Ianto. The prat! He plugged in his number and the TARDIS phone on mine while we were getting tea. Didn't even know he got it out of my pocket in the first place. I'm starting to suspect he's secretly a ninja." She frowned at the numbers on the screen, then grinned at Oliver. "For the record, I heard the Doctor singing Here Comes the Sun the other night while he was doing repairs."

"Err... good for him?"

"Then I walked in and he started singing even louder. Listen, when you get caught at something, just act like you meant to do it all along, yeah?"

"I'll keep that in mind. Did Ianto teach you that?"

"No, the Doctor did. Ianto doesn't get caught."

They circled the building to where the TARDIS had been parked to find... no TARDIS.

"What about your other friend? And what do we do with the blasters now?"

"The army lot might have taken the Doctor's ship with them" She replied to Ianto's text with 'Where are you?' and continued, "I think Ianto must have gone with the Doctor. Wouldn't surprise me. Probably making sure he behaves himself."

* * *

><p>The world solidified into a vast, shadowy hall contained under a domed roof supported by cables and scaffolding. Ianto's head spun as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, and his stomach imploded and twisted inside out with the unpleasantness of teleportation and writhing nerves and terror. He focused on remembering how to breathe normally as his captor shoved him towards two more cybermen that stood tending electronic equipment in a lighted area.<p>

_"I have apprehended the Doctor's associate."_

_"You were instructed to bring the Doctor."_

_"Transmission time was limited. It is possible that he has communication with the Doctor."_ One of the cybermen, apparently the current cyberleader, stared at him balefully.

"_Where is the Doctor?"_ Ianto stared at his shoes, unable to look into its empty black eyes.

"I don't know."

_"You will tell us or you will be deleted."_

Ianto took a deep breath. "I know that he's coming to find you. He might even know where you are already. He might be on his way here."

_"Then you are unnecessary,_" the cyberman who had captured him spoke. "_You will be deleted."_ Ianto flinched.

_"Negative,"_ countered their leader._ "His presence will ensure the Doctor's cooperation. You will guard him."_ The leader and the engineer returned to their work on the teleportation signaler. Deletion was no longer imminent and conversion units were currently nonexistent, so Ianto gave a relieved exhale, stomach still squirming unpleasantly, and sat glumly on the concrete ground.

"Why do you need the Doctor?"

_"He will assist us."_

"With what?"

"_He will return our army to this world. The human race will be upgraded."_

"You're going to try to get your army back from the Void?"

_"That is correct."_

"Right. Okay." For all his terror at the thought of the cybermen, they were nonetheless the convenient sort of monster that didn't see anything wrong with telling their captors their entire plan. He was certainly displeased at the thought of being a bargaining chip, but by the time the cybermen figured out that the Doctor couldn't open the void, the Time Lord would be here or otherwise cooking up something clever. In the meantime, he preferred to remain undeleted, and doing something productive.

"What's in the boxes?" There were five coffin-shaped boxes lined innocuously off to the side.

_"They are our reserve forces."_

"All five of them?" Ianto's mouth twitched bitterly.

_"They will suffice."_ He gave them a 'have it your way' face, and slid a hand into his pocket, surreptitiously checking his phone.

* * *

><p>At a nigh unintelligible pace the Doctor summed up what he and the Joneses had worked out, and was pleased to find that both officers managed to keep up with a minimum of dense questions. "So, basically, you may consider me sufficiently briefed on the situation of the big metal stompy robots, with no need for your classified portfolios and your seminar rooms -"<p>

Burton held up a hand. "I take it you agree to assist us with the cyberman invasion, Doctor?"

"Well, yes, obviously, I want them off this planet as much as you do. And it's not much of an invasion when there's no more than a handful of them. Regardless, I have a few conditions." Sarandon shifted warily. Burton raised his eyebrows.

"And they are?"

"Right. I want a free hand with the investigation. No threats, no custody, no elbowing in the ribs, and no telling me that I'm doing it wrong." Burton's eyebrows furrowed. "I mean it, Major, I know what I'm doing. I've been fighting cybermen since before you lot were in nappies." Burton looked skeptical, but nodded.

"It's agreed."

"Good. And I want to get in touch with my companions. They've probably worked out where the cyberman base is and I really don't want them trying to storm it by themselves."

"Companions, plural?" Captain Sarandon asked bemusedly at the same time as Burton's slightly indignant, "And how would they have managed that?"

"Yes, two. Well, two and a sort of... one of their friends is helping out. Regardless, I tend to end up with the clever ones who are not very good at staying out of trouble. And you need to promise them the same amnesty that you've promised me."

"Is that wise, sir?" Sarandon asked Burton levelly. Finding herself on the receiving end of the Doctor's cool, impossibly still, completely impassive stare, she resisted the urge to fidget.

"Very," he answered, half a moment after she decided that it was wise for everybody involved. Burton merely nodded.

"Done." The stillness evaporated into lively animation. The Doctor gave him a genuinely pleased smile.

"Much appreciated."

"Now, if I may, Doctor, I think our priorities at the moment involve knowing the location of the cybermen. By all means, we can have you contact your companions if you think they have the information, but is there anything you can give us to go on at the moment?"

"You can probably pinpoint it to a location within a radius of Canary Wharf, Royal Hope, this base, and the other locations from where they got their equipment. And they would need power, and lots of it. They'll be stealing massive amounts to run the teleportation equipment." He paused for a moment to think. "Unless they have thousands of highly trained hamsters going round in special wheels… No, definitely stealing it. So, if we can trace the electricity leakage…" Captain Sarandon snapped into action.

"I'll get onto the Grid, sir." She strode over to her desk and picked up the landline.

"And I'll be calling the Joneses, if you don't mind, Major," the Doctor said blithely. "Can I use that when you're done?" The phone rang in Sarandon's hand. He cocked his head to the side and listened curiously to her side of the conversation, which consisted mostly of brusque 'yeses'. She put the phone down and turned to Burton.

"Police report from the patrol at Royal Hope. The same officer who alerted us to him," she nodded at the Doctor, "Just witnessed a silver giant appearing in the car park and vanishing with a young man." They both started as the Doctor shot out of his chair like he'd been stung, snatching up the phone and dialing.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm not quite used to splitting them all up so I had to try my hand at alternating viewpoints. <strong>

**Made of Steel **will have another chapter after this one, since this ended up being much longer than anticipated.****

****Sorry, again, that this is taking so long. I'd hoped to have this chapter done before I went to NM, but that didn't happen. I may also have to edit things depending on how the next chapter turns out, since it's still a work in progress. Thanks for being so patient with me.****


	32. Made of Steel: Pt 4

**Well. That only took way longer than it needed to. My intention was to have Made of Steel the same length as the usual episodes: 3 chapters, about 2,500-3,500 words each. Then it needed a fourth chapter. Said fourth chapter decided to be 9,000+ words. And thus, Made of Steel became a trilogy in six parts. This is chapter 4/6. 5 and 6 will be posted soon, I promise it won't be a long wait the way this was. Human Nature will be the next story to follow this, and we'll be back on track from there, I hope.**

**Italics are for offscreen phone voices, cyberman voices, emphasis, flashbacks and grocery lists, depending on the context. Try not to get confused.**

* * *

><p>Martha's phone chirped as a text came through. "He's there," she said aloud. "51.5028° N, 0.0031° E. Wherever that is, Ianto's there now. This was supposed to be a 'normal' day," she added, pacing the back office. "We were going to go grocery shopping and everything. Should've known better, really. We went and fed dinosaurs instead. Nearly got eaten ourselves."<p>

Oliver's face lit up. "Dinosaurs?! You're kidding!" He turned back to a computer terminal to type the coordinates into an online map.

"Nope. Ianto made friends with a pteranodon. We think they're going to try and take over the world together. Listen, if we make it through the day alive, remind me to buy bananas. We're out of bananas."

Oliver chuckled. "When we have time, I want to hear about everything. Got it, look." He pointed at the screen, fingers on his other hand tapping the desk. He frowned and put it in his pocket. Martha's phone went off and she answered on the first ring.

" _-kuppickuppickupMartha! Please tell me Ianto's with you!_" She inhaled sharply.

"Doctor, I'm sorry, I thought he had followed you, I hadn't seen him since you left." There was a frozen silence on the other end. "And then he just sent me something on his phone about ten minutes ago, a set of coordinates. We just looked them up, hang on, I'll put you on speaker."

Oliver read off the numbers and added, "It's the Millenium Dome, that's not far from here."

"_The Millenniu... the Millenium Dome!_" the Doctor shouted. Oliver twitched, and Martha shook her head fondly. "_Big, deserted, lots of power outlets – also not far from Canary Wharf. Well, someone's found a use for it at last._"

"Another secret alien base in a big public landmark, then? That's where the cybermen are holed up?"

"_Sounds about right. We can cross-reference it with electricity leakages to confirm, but it's ideal for their purposes._"

"Yeah, who's we? Where are you?"

"_I'm with the nice officers of the British Army. Chadwick Green, outside London. TARDIS is here too, and they've promised us amnesty, so no more guns and arresting and elbowing in the ribs. No sandwiches, unfortunately, but we can't have everything-"_

_"_That's good to hear, listen-"

"_Actually it's a crying shame, I was really fancying an MLT -"_

"Doctor! I think Ianto's in the Dome now." There was a sigh on the other end.

"_I know, but I did hope... __No, by the way._"

"What?"

"_I mean, yes, he's there now, but no. You're not. Don't even think about it._"

"I wasn-"

"_Yes, you were_. Y_ou're planning to go and storm the castle on a rescue mission for your captured quartermaster, by yourselves, without your strategist. And I'm telling you now, _don't." Martha scowled. "_And d__on't give me that face, Martha, I mean it._"

"You can't even see my face."

"_I don't need to. You're giving me the stubborn face. Oliver, is she or is she not giving me the stubborn face?_"

"I'm afraid she's giving _me_ the face now."

"_Ah. Sorry. But really. Stay away from the Dome._"

Martha's shoulders slumped. "There's got to be something we can do."

_You two were able to get messages to Ianto, right_?"

"Yep."

_"Right, I need to know how many cybermen we're dealing with, what kind of defense systems, tech or weapons they have in place, and anything else they may be planning. __ Once you find out, call me back at this number. If I'm not here, try the TARDIS phone. You've __got the number, I saw Ianto plug it in_." Martha made a face. _"And__ no storming the castle until you get a wheelbarrow and a strategist._"

Oliver frowned, felt for the Judoon blaster at his side. "Suppose we already have a wheelbarrow?" he asked.

"_Where did you find an albino?" _There was definitely a smile in the Doctor's tone of curiosity. Martha stared.

"Actually we got it off a rhino." Oliver watched, bemused, as the wheels turned in her head.

"_No more rhym - w__ait... you... seriously?! __Then why didn't you list that among our assets in the first_ place?"

Martha nudged Oliver. "I think I missed something. Do you mean -" she patted the blaster. He nodded. "Doctor, is it okay to use the..."

"Wheelbarrow," Oliver grinned.

She shook her head, nonplussed. "-wheelbarrow on the cybermen?"

The Doctor exhaled noisily. "_Well... yes. And you understand I'm not condoning that lightly. And I'd really hope you wouldn't have to. But if you have to, then yes. It's still a bad idea, though, because Guilder's planning to lay siege to the castle and I want my entire crew away from there when that happens._"

Oliver looked interested. "So the Dread Pirate Roberts is in league with Guilder?"

"_Yep! We're going up against Count Rugen and the Brute Squad!"_

"Definitely missed something," Martha sighed. "Nearly as bad as you and Ianto with the eyebrows."

"_Oh, Martha Jones, you are missing something special. We'll explain later, that's a promise__. Got to go. Stay put, keep me posted."_

"Anything else, Captain Roberts?" Oliver asked.

"_Nope, I'll call if I need anything._"

"Have fun storming the castle."

* * *

><p>"I'll be needing that phone back, Doctor," Burton said pleasantly.<p>

"Hmm?" The Doctor was still staring at the receiver in his hand.

"As you correctly surmised, we will be setting up an assault force on the Millennium Dome. Phone, please." Sarandon frowned, trying to figure out at what point in the Doctor's phone conversation he had referred to doing so. And the Doctor still didn't give the phone back.

"Nope. You lot are military intelligence, remember? Relatively speaking. Now, I know they've only been seen in onesie-twosies but I don't want to assume that that's all of them. And, oh, look, I've got a man inside their base. We wait, Major," he concluded firmly. "We don't go flying blind, all guns blazing. We get the information we need, prepare for as many variables as we can, and plan accordingly."

"It will take some time to get a squad assembled. And if I may be blunt, it's possible that your companion may be dead by now."

The Doctor nodded seriously. "I have considered that, but no, I don't think so. If they wanted him dead, there'd be a body in the parking lot. Like I told you earlier, the cybermen are after my cooperation to return their army from the Void. They know I wouldn't do that of my own accord, so they'll be using Ianto as a hostage to force my hand."

"Are you sure?"

"Fairly. Logically speaking, they'll have a wee bit more of an advantage if I come after them with the intent of getting him out alive than if I come after them with the intent of wiping them off the face of this planet for taking another companion from me. Seeing as they're interested in their prolonged existence, killing Ianto would be highly illogical, bordering on thick."

"And if push came to shove, would you open the breach to save the life of your companion?"

"First of all, if push came to shove, I would not sacrifice the welfare of the entire planet for one human, and believe me, I've learned that the hard way. That's not going to stop me from trying to save the planet _and_ him. Second of all, cybermen can lie. Notoriously deceitful, cybermen, and would hardly spare him even if I did honor my end of a bargain with them. Furthermore, it's not like I actually _can_ open the breach; that's impossible. But as long as the cybermen _think_ I can, we can predict their movements. Now, about your assault force."

"About that."

"You are determined to go up against the cybermen with your soldiers and weapons."

Burton nodded patiently. "Yes."

"And nothing I will say or do will convince you otherwise."

"That depends on what you have in mind."

"You said I could have a free hand with this. You could let me take my ship and go to the Dome. Once we get our intel I can fly in, rescue Ianto, turn the cybermen into scrap metal, fly out. Everybody lives, 'cept the cybermen, who are, figuratively speaking, dead already. Promotions for you lot, no more babysitting the annoying Time Lord for Captain Sarandon, and there's jam for tea." Sarandon visibly brightened.

Burton looked vaguely amused. "And you plan to eliminate the cybermen singlehandedly? How?"

"Well, it's a funny thing! I'd be going up against a handful of cybermen who are relying on me for their survival and continued existence. I have my ship, I'll be facing them in a large base deserted of human life save for my rather brilliant companion who also has my sonic screwdriver in the vicinity of teleportation equipment, which gives me something on the order of... oh, 32 stratagems. Plans A through Zed, nice 'n even. I just haven't picked which one I like best." Burton looked at him skeptically. "I have plans! This is _new!"_

Sarandon cleared her throat. "The alphabet is 26 letters, Doctor."

He frowned, did a few calculations, then smiled winningly. "Give it a century or three."

"I'm sure you mean well by your idea, but I will insist on following protocol and taking an active role in the proceedings, though I obviously wish to hear any advice you have to give about confronting them."

The Doctor's eyes hardened, face abruptly sober. "Right, well, I'm not taking up arms. You lot want to open fire on the cyberman, as I'm sure you'd love to, then I'm not going to stop you. They're a threat to this planet under just about any circumstance, and I've destroyed them far less kindly than shooting them. Now, regular guns won't work on them. Don't bother with your standard issue stuff, basically nothing short of a bazooka is going to penetrate that armor. Like that word, bazooka. Bazookazookazoo-" Burton held a hand up. "Ka." The Doctor snapped his mouth shut.

"We have acquired specialized equipment in case the cyberman decided to target our base again."

"What kind of 'specialized equipment?'"

"Latest ground-to-ground rocket launcher. Reloadable, high- explosive shells. Still in the experimental stage. But they claim it'll take out a tank."

"There you go, then. Now, if you try to attack them in their own base they will have the advantage of home-field knowledge plus whatever traps and weapons and defenses they've stolen and or set up. Not to mention the ability to teleport."

"Then what do you suggest?"

The phone rang in the Doctor's hand, and he waggled it, pressing a button to connect the call. "That was fast."

_"Eight cybermen total,_" Martha announced as soon as the Doctor came on the line. "_One's the leader, one's guarding Ianto, one's engineering the teleportation equipment. They have five inactive ones held in reserve, and apparently they've got a force-field generator protecting the Dome._"

"Okay, not surprised there's not more than that, they wouldn't have had time for much. Hang on, apparently?"

"_Just, have you two run into those before? Force field generators, I mean, would he know for certain that's what it was?_"

"Oh. Yeah, yeah, he would have seen it before. He'd know. Anything else?"

"_Nope, that's all he sent.__"_

"Okay. Tell him to stay put and don't do anything stupid. That goes for you two as well, wait for the all-clear."

_"Do we have to?_"

"Yes."

_"Fine._"

"Good. See you in a bit." The Doctor hung up and promptly relayed the information. "You can go ahead and set up that strike force of yours, Major. But set them up here, on your base."

"Are you going to explain why we should do that?"

The Doctor beamed again. "We're initiating plan_ Xanos!_"

* * *

><p><em>Toothpaste. <em>_Chocolate.__ Coffee beans. __Tea leaves (Earl Grey). __Milk. Bananas. Eggs. Orange juice. Yoghurt. Bread. _

_Visit Rhiannon. Buy Harry Potter books for David and Mica._

Ianto sighed, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his chin glumly atop his knee. His phone vibrated insistently in his pocket, too long to be a text. His guard, having decided that Ianto was simply going to sit there and mope and wait for the Doctor to rescue him, was paying more attention to the leader and the engineer working on the teleportation device. He took the opportunity to connect the call.

"'Lo?" he murmured softly.

"_Mister Jones, Ianto Jones!_" The Doctor's voice soared into the echoing space, louder through the phone than his own had been. "_Martha seems to think you're at Chadwick Green Research Center with me, not having sandwiches. I thought you were still having tea with her and Olly-Olly-Oliver. You appear to be with neither of us, care to explain that_?" Ianto flinched as the Doctor spilled his location as easily as coffee on the carpet. This had to be a plan. Dear god, please let this be a plan.

_"The human has communication with the Doctor!"_

"Doctor, I'm in the Millenni-" Ianto bit down on a yelp as a cold metal hand tore the phone away from his and crumpled it into pieces.

"_We have the Doctor's location. Prepare the reserve squad for revival." _The other two cybermen dragged one of the oblong metal boxes up to the equipment complex and attached electrodes to the sides. The box hummed with power and a cyberman sat up inside like a corpse waking from the dead. It climbed stiffly from the container and stood upright. Its metal arm clanged across its armoured chest in salute. Ianto clenched his hands to keep them from shaking, as they repeated the process until all eight cybermen were upright and active. The five new troops and the leader stepped into a circle of light at the center of the teleport mechanism and faded away.

* * *

><p>A fiery streak shot across the parade ground, striking a cyberman full in the chest. It exploded in a ball of flame, and a shower of metal fragments rained down on the parade ground. It was followed closely by a second, which also nailed its mark and blew it to pieces. A ragged cheer went up from the surrounding soldiers and the two-man teams that were firing the rocket launchers, who swiftly began reloading.<p>

"Fire!" Major Burton ordered.

He was too late. One shot hit its mark, but not before the cyber wrist-guns converged several blasts on the launchers, and they exploded, killing both teams. The Doctor flinched, closing his eyes and slowly opening them again.

"How many more of those things have you got?" asked the Doctor.

"Just one. It'll have to be enough." Major Burton raised his voice. "Third squad forward!"

The arrival of the third squad seemed to take the cybermen by surprise, and yet another was blasted into shrapnel. But the shot alerted the two survivors, and they both turned and fired, killing both soldiers. The launcher escaped most of the impact and rolled across the parade ground. The two remaining Cybermen advanced. Suddenly Major Burton leaped from the shelter of the doorway, dashed across the parade ground, grabbed the weapon and the fallen shell pack and carried them into cover. Even for a man his size, it was an incredible feat of strength.

"It takes two to fire it," Captain Sarandon hissed from her place at the Doctor's shoulder.

"Hang on! You need something to draw their fire!"

"Anything in mind?"

"Welll..." Without another word he darted from cover. "LOOK AT ME! I'M A TARGET!"

The cybermen wheeled in confusion, one shot missing him wildly as the leader demanded that they needed the Doctor alive. They turned their attention back towards Sarandon, who had crossed the field to behind the building where Major Burton was loading the rocket launcher and struggling to raise it to his shoulder. She steadied it and pulled the lever, and their shot nailed cyberman number five. Its resulting shrapnel was enough to send the final cyberman's wrist-gun off target - the pulse missed the launcher, and hit Major Burton instead. He crumpled beneath the launcher as Sarandon struggled to pull it upright. The cyberman raised its wristgun again, only to be distracted by an ear-splitting whistle

"Oi! You can't just ignore me like that, that's very, very rude!" Coat billowing, eyes daring the barrel of the weapon on its wrist, the Doctor strode forth and stood between them and Sarandon.

The cyberman turned to face him. "_You are the Doctor."_

_"_Well spotted," he replied acidly.

"_You are needed alive."_

"What do you want?"

"_You will__ return our legion from the void," _the cyberman demanded.

The Doctor gave a derisive chuckle. "Will I, now?"

"_Your associate is our prisoner in the place the humans refer to as the Dome. You will transport there and open the Gateway. If you do not, he will be deleted. You have one hour."_

_"_Well, since you ask so nicely." The Doctor cocked his head to the side and watched the cyberleader fade away, then turned and ran back to Captain Sarandon. She had shoved the launcher off of Major Burton's body and was holding his wrist to check for a pulse. As the Doctor drew level, she let the hand fall limply and reached over to close his eyes.

The Doctor sighed, feet suddenly leaden. "I'm sorry, Captain. He was a good man."

She nodded stiffly, features rigid. "He was very brave."

"You all were."

She cleared her throat and stood, forcing impassivity into her words. "We'll take the assault forces to the Dome to finish them off. I'll need to brief the rest of the force, and report to Colonel Barnard."

* * *

><p><strong>I've been very very bad about updating promptly and can only say that I am so sorry.<strong>** I will try to do better.**** By all means, feel free to message, nudge, send me a kick in the pants when I'm getting lazy, and check my profile for how chapter status is doing. **

**Also, the Princess Bride references decided to get a bit out of hand. I'd say I'm sorry, but_ that_ would be a lie. Also, a few more Cabin Pressure lines snuck in here and there, keep your eyes peeled.**


	33. Made of Steel: Pt 5

The Doctor and Sarandon headed across the parade ground, where squads of soldiers and medics were clearing away the debris of battle and carrying off the dead and wounded. On the far side of the ground, the main gates were open for a convoy of army trucks.

The Doctor stopped abruptly. "Do you trust me?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Doctor, I'm an officer of the British Army."

"And."

"You're unprofessional, capricious, and highly unorthodox. And you ran into the line of fire for my sake, for which I am honestly grateful, but the fact remains you're completely unpredictable."

"And I happen to know exactly what I'm doing. I can go to the Dome. If you can take me to my ship, I can transport inside and deal with the rest of the cybermen."

"This is a military situation, you can let us do our jobs," she said firmly.

"You've seen them in action," he argued. "We had the element of surprise and the home territory advantage and still lost half a dozen men and Major Burton. Besides, how would you lot get past the force field? Even if you managed to storm the Dome, you'd lose more men, and the cybermen could still teleport out."

"We have options. Our men are prepared for the risks involved. And we have your companion: he's already inside the Dome, he could disable their tech and leave them vulnerable."

"Yeah, and then they'd kill him on the spot."

"So it's fine to sacrifice our soldiers, but not your companion?" Sarandon bit her tongue the moment the words were out - far harsher than she'd meant to be.

The Doctor rounded on her. "It's not fine! None of it's fine! I wouldn't order Ianto to do something if I could do it myself. It's not fine to send someone else into danger because it's protocol, you only do that when the alternatives are unthinkable, and trust me, that's something else I've had to learn the hard way. I didn't want you to send anyone against the cybermen in the first place, I offered up solutions, I would have gone to the Dome in a heartbeat if it meant nobody else had to die, and I still would. But I left a choice in Major Burton's hands, and this is what came of it. "

Sarandon bristled, and wondered if this was the same man who complained that the army jeep smelled funny.

"Give me an hour," he persisted. "That's about the time it would take to get your men in place and a perimeter set up. And it's as much as the cybermen have given me. One hour, I can get in, disable them, destroy them, get Ianto and get out. Your men all go home alive."

She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "I'll inform Colonel Barnard of the decision to send you to the Dome. Your ship is in the security vault. I can detail a squad of men to get it back to the surface."

He gave a grateful nod. "No need. Can you bring me to her?"

She led him to a concrete archway, guarded by saluting sentries, that formed the entrance to the vault, and punched a security code into the electronic lock. Massive steel doors slid slowly back, and they moved into a concrete corridor ending in a lift, guarded by yet more soldiers. The lift took them down to a vast chamber lined with steel and reinforced concrete. In a dark alcove, stowed behind workbenches, lab compartments and crates of supplies and equipment, stood the TARDIS. The Doctor beamed and patted her panels affectionately.

Sarandon gave a weary sigh. "If there is anything else I can do to help -"

"It's all I need. Thank you, Captain." He nodded once and ducked behind the door.

Sarandon's eyebrows shot up in surprise as the police box thudded, faded in and out and disappeared completely amidst a whooshing and grinding and v_woorrp, vwooorrp, vwoooorrrrrp, _and decided that it had to be the strangest sound she'd ever heard.

* * *

><p>The cyber-engineer continued to manipulate (cybermen manipulated, whereas the Doctor fiddled and twiddled and tinkered) the controls of the teleportation equipment. The air shimmered and cleared around a lone cyberman, that had been upgraded to leader in the midst of battle.<p>

"_The attack squad was destroyed,"_ it informed the two that remained. "_The humans have improved their weapons."_

Ianto bent his head to hide a tiny smirk. It had been a plan, and a successful one, it seemed.

"_There are no more in reserve. And you have not captured the Doctor."_ There almost seemed to be reproach in his guard's voice.

"_His capture was unnecessary. He is aware of our terms. He will transport here of his own accord to ensure the survival of his associate."_

Still a bargaining chip, then. Wonderful. Ianto shifted a few inches, straining his eyes against the gloom to study the teleportation device. It had been out of commission when they had him store it in the secure archives. The information on the reports stored in the filing cabinet of his memory did little to help him, but the cybermen had succeeded where the Torchwood technicians had failed, since it was evidently functioning (albeit with a reliability reminiscent of the TARDIS).

If he could get close enough to press the right buttons, he could escape. Remove himself from the equation, leave the Doctor free to take on the cybermen. But therein lay the flaw - he didn't know the right buttons. He could end up anywhere: the middle of the Army center, the middle of a crowded public area, the middle of the Thames, the middle of the air. And the cybermen could choose to follow, and he would not only throw a spanner in the Doctor's plans, (such as they were) he would endanger innocent people. And if he didn't work it out fast enough, he'd get deleted on the spot.

The force-field generator, now... Research and Development had found the design to be remarkably straightforward and intuitive - they had adapted several models and passed them on to the Minister of Defense for his aircraft carrier, codename Hawk Major. This was their Mark II, stored in secure archives for safekeeping, plans filed under D for Defense. The technology itself was beyond 21st century Earth standards, but the programming instructions had been scaled down into recognizable symbols and were about as complicated as a DVD player.

It was, annoyingly, even less accessible than the teleportation device. He shifted a few more inches, and there was a creak of metal as his guard swiveled its helmet to eye him balefully.

_Knives shrieked and bursts of red light flashed and the air was thick with blood and smoke and metal and the sound of screams and the thud of deleted bodies and the occasional 'Exterminate!' and it was all over and they were all going to die... _Ianto shuddered and forced the image from his mind.

"_You fear us,"_ the cyberman intoned._ "Your emotions cause you weakness. Cybermen will remove fear and weakness. The world will be upgraded. You will -"_

Ianto gave it a withering look. "You will become like us, et cetera. Get some new material."

"_We have watched the humans as they strive to be alike. They imitate each other, they seek conformity. We can give the human race uniformity. It will give them the safety and strength and unity they crave."_

Ianto surveyed the cyberman thoughtfully. "Interesting. Now, that is new material. And it's a superficially accurate claim, I suppose. There are humans out there who want nothing more than to be like everybody else, or to make everybody else like them. And yet. 'Those who would give up their freedom for safety deserve neither freedom, nor safety.' Benjamin Franklin. Splendid fellow."

_"The human race will stop at nothing to survive. Cybermen will give them ultimate survival."_

"You really have no idea how hard some humans will fight to stay human. Threaten that, and you're a fool. They will fight you for their right to be an individual, to have an identity, to be different."

_"You survived the Battle of Torchwood. I have the memories of my host - he led three others through the ventilation system to the secure archives."_

Ianto stiffened, flooded with a sick feeling. "Hansen. You were Hansen."

"_He might have followed you and remained human. He might have survived like you, watched others die and felt pain and loss and guilt. Would he have thanked you? How many of your survivors refused to live with their emotions, with all they had lost? Yet you might have followed him and become like us. It would have spared you the emotions that might destroy you. You may yet be spared. You will be compatible. The Doctor will return our legion. The human race will surrender. You may choose to join us."_

He sniffed, affecting disdain again. "I never pegged cybermen as the type to convince their intended victims of their cause. I suppose you didn't have to before." _Lisa's laugh was silvery and musical. Lisa straightened his tie, kissed him on the nose, tucked her head under his chin. Lisa's hair smelled like coconut and he closed his eyes and kissed the top of her head as she murmured, "My Ianto, you'll fight them for me. You'll beat them, I know you will. I love you." _He forced himself to stare into the cyberman's black eyes. "But you ought to know that there are those who would rather die than become like you, and I am one of them." He paused. "That's... not an invitation, by the way."

"_You will continue to be necessary until the Gateway is open. When our legion returns, you and the Doctor will be deleted."_

In a superciliously feline gesture, Ianto turned up his nose and ignored them. He spent an agonizing half hour of dreaming up escape plans and backups and failsafes and contingencies, tossing them as unfeasible, and waiting and waiting with his stomach squirming and his hands shaking and twitching every second one of the cybermen turned in his direction. The noxious combination of terror and utter boredom finally broke - Ianto's head shot up as the police box faded out and in to appear amidst a whooshing and grinding and v_woorrp, vwooorrp, vwoooorrrrrp, thud_ and decided that it had to be the most wonderful sound he'd ever heard.

* * *

><p>"So then Queen Elizabeth I sweeps into the Globe, and the Doctor looks like a kid on Christmas morning, and she takes one look at him and yells at the guards to arrest him and take off his head!" Martha declared in an enthusiastic stage whisper. She and Oliver were keeping a low profile in the back office, waiting for the Doctor to give them the all clear.<p>

Oliver laughed. "What, seriously? What did he do?"

"He didn't even know what he'd done, because he hadn't done it yet! Sorry, hold on." Martha dug into her pockets and surfaced with her ringing mobile, as Oliver tried to do the math in his head. "Doctor?"

"_Sorry, no. This is Captain Sarandon, British Army. I take it you would be Martha Jones, the Doctor's companion?"_

Martha's eyes widened. "I... yes, ma'am. What can I do for you?"

"_The Doctor has transported to the Dome in his... er, ship, with the intent of rescuing Ianto Jones and eliminating the cyber threat. My Commanding Officer, Colonel Barnard, intends for our technicians to rig the force field surrounding the Dome with newly developed explosives; powerful enough to destroy the whole place. I thought it prudent to inform you of the situation. Strictly off the record, you understand?"_

"Yes, ma'am."

"_I'll do what I can to delay detonation, however, at this point I would say you and your friends have about twenty minutes."_

"Understood. Thank you, Captain, I'll let him know as soon as I can."

"_Incidentally, Ms. Jones, I am not aware and did not inform you of the existence of an infrequently used service maintenance entrance in subsection 12D of the southbound A102 that surfaces within the inner reaches of the Millennium Dome."_

"I see. Again, thank you. Anything else?"

A pause. "_Do__ be careful. I cannot guarantee your safety, either from the cyber threat or from Army personnel. Good luck."_

The line went dead and Martha stared at her phone, a wee bit impressed. "Huh."

* * *

><p>"And wuv, twue wuv, wih fowwow you fowevah - " the Doctor meandered out the TARDIS doors to stand brazenly in the center of the trio of cybermen and their equipment. "Rassilon, these short trips are a bugger. Nearly made a mess of Big Ben just now, it really doesn't need any more of that. Alright, Ianto?"<p>

Ianto's mind searched for a pithy remark and came up with "What took you so long?"

"Oi! That was an inspired bit of navigation, thank you very much!" He frowned. "How long?"

"Two hours, twenty-three minutes. Twenty-nine since I was informed that you had one hour to show up and open the breach before they..." Ianto trailed off. The Doctor looked at him carefully before snapping cheerfully into action.

"Better get started then!" he said brightly. He shucked off his coat and tossed it to Ianto, bounding over to the equipment. Inside the TARDIS, the console phone began to ring. The Doctor cocked his head to the side, looking sheepish. "Sorry. D'you mind if I get that?"

"_It is irrelevant to your task. You will proceed to open the Gateway."_

"Just going to keep ringing, though, 's a bit annoying."

"_We have no concept of annoyance."_

"Keep him around, you soon will," Ianto remarked mildly.

"Oiiii!" He stuck his tongue out and sat by the teleportation complex, toggling away a panel to reveal the circuitry. "Wonderful place, the Dome," he ruminated aloud over the sound of the phone, teasing a few coiled cables away from the device's innards. "Of course, it's not really a proper dome at all. Not self-supporting, see. Properly speaking, it's a mast-supported, dome-shaped cable network -" The phone died away and the Doctor sighed. "That could've been important, you know - anyway, cable network covered with coated glass-fibre fabric and _honestly_, who sold you this stuff? It's a mess! Useless! Might as well've fallen off the back of a lorry! Mind you..." He tweaked a dial. "This might just possibly… ah HA!"

He shot to his feet, addressing the cyberleader. "If I can boost the power of the teleportation equipment far enough, it'll reach clear into the Void and act as a portal from there to this dimension. I'll need heavy-duty cables, lots of them, and you'll have to let me back inside the TARDIS to hook them up and supply the power."

_"Power is available here."_

"Not nearly enough. Unless... you don't use hamsters, do you?"

"Focus, Doctor," Ianto murmured.

"Right. Disregard."

* * *

><p>Martha put down her mobile and huffed. "Do you think we can get to the Blackwall Tunnel within the next 15 minutes?"<p>

"What was it he said about 'stay put and wait for an hour or two?'" Oliver reminded her. "You know, 'stay away from the Dome, the army's laying siege, try not to get killed?'"

"The Army's laying siege. They're going to blow up the Millennium Dome. And the Doctor and Ianto are still inside it."

"We can take my car."

Martha grinned and made for the door. "Aren't you going to be in trouble, though?"

Oliver shrugged, following. "I get to help you lot save the world from metal robots, seems like a fair trade-off." His expression became contemplative. "'S a bit weird. My Dad was military - you met him a few times, you remember. He'd buy me those toy guns with the foam pellets -"

"And you'd ignore them and always run around with that stethoscope, same as me at that age. Your Mum showed me pictures."

He winced. "We agreed never to speak of that again."

She elbowed him. "Oh, come on, that was last year, it's just funny now."

"For you, maybe. They're still asking me what became of you, or why I haven't managed to settle down and find a nice girl, what part of 'I'm a medical student, I have no life' isn't getting through?"

Martha hissed sympathetically. "Still? My Mum's a bit in the reverse; she got all disapproving when she saw me hanging around with the boys instead of focusing on my exams. Not that the Doctor made a very good impression - she slapped him - but that's another story." They poked their heads round a corner. Coast clear, they headed towards the lobby.

"It's just, they've always expected me to - you know, grow up, be normal, follow the rules and stuff, and here I am..."

"Sailing with the pirates instead of marching with the palace guard?"

Oliver grinned. "Something like that." They slipped out through the halls and had just passed through the lobby doors when he turned and stared.

"What?"

"Thought I saw..."

"Don't say 'never mind,' it could be important."

"I thought I saw me."

Martha's eyebrows shot up. Then she patted his arm. "You probably did." She grabbed his hand and headed towards the carpark.

* * *

><p><strong>If you're so inclined, I have a handful of DWTW fanvideos, to include a trailer for this fic, on my Youtube channel, 'MadHunterThief.'**

**Also, I'd like to put in a plug for FF author black k kat, whose TW stories (which are numerous and delightful) have ****_really_**** gorgeous writing and 'more canon than canon' characterization. Do pop over and have a look!**


	34. Made of Steel: Pt 6

**And, I finally present the conclusion to Made of Steel. Yes, it took me long enough. Thank you all for being so patient with me, enjoy the chapter! And **I'd like to extend a huge thank-you to black k kat for kindly agreeing to beta read for me!****

* * *

><p>Ianto's guard continued to stand to attention, minding him closely now that The Enemy was in their midst. The Doctor cheerfully directed the engineer with the set-up as the leader supervised them all.<p>

"So, when we finish up here, I'm thinking we'll call it a day. Maybe get milkshakes and introduce Martha to The Princess Bride, what d'you reckon?" the Doctor said brightly, ferrying snakelike black cables from the TARDIS and tossing a quick, pointed glance at the way Ianto's hands were twisted in the fabric of his coat.

Ianto forced his hands to relax and smooth out the wrinkles, fully aware that the Doctor was trying to distract him from their situation. Unfortunately, he was also aware that it was working, because, "Martha hasn't seen Princess Bride?!"

"Apparently not. Olly-Oliver has, though. Not surprised, him being a Morgenstern and all."

Ianto frowned. "S. Morgenstern was a literary framing device." The Doctor gave him a significant look. Ianto's eyes widened. "You're _kidding_!"

"Stuffy old codger," the Doctor said affectionately. "Who do you think taught him about acres and blue jeans? I've got a copy of the original manuscript somewhere." His tone became ruminative. "There was an awful lot about trees. And, _finito!_ Just need to pop in and power it all up."

"_We still have your associate,_" warned the cyberleader. "_You will leave the TARDIS once the power is on_."

The TARDIS began to hum as the Doctor dialed up the power and emerged. He flicked his eyes to meet Ianto's, and glanced at the force-field generator. Ianto lifted one eyebrow in acknowledgement, sliding a hand into his pocket. Eyes darting around the inner sanctum, he caught a furtive movement from behind some steel support beams at the far end of the Dome.

A rectangular portal the size of the TARDIS door formed and expanded, radiating cold blue-white light.

Ianto's guard and the cyberleader stared, mesmerized if any cyberman could be, and Ianto began to inch cautiously towards the generator. The cyber-engineer examined the readings on the teleportation device and announced, "_The Doctor lies! This Gateway does not lead to the Void!"_

The cyberleader turned its wrist-gun to the Doctor. "_What have you done?!"_

"Well, I... oh my god! Look at that!" He stared wildly behind the cyberleader and it turned around as a huge, stiffly bulky shape began to form into something with scales and yellow eyes and _teeth._ A massive head lunged through the portal. The Doctor danced out of reach, baring his teeth in a maniacal grin. "I think the Gateway leads to your grave!"

"_You have betrayed us!"_

Laughing, the Doctor ducked and rolled behind one of the reserve crates. It took the impact from a blast of red from the leader's wrist-gun. Ianto's guard turned and fired its weapon on the looming Tyrannosaurus, and Ianto leaped to his feet and launched himself away from his guard, aiming the sonic at the force-field generator. He jammed the screwdriver into a power socket and jabbed several buttons, causing it to vibrate, hum, and grow silent. The dinosaur roared, dipping its head and snatching the offending cyberman into the air, shaking it like a dog pulling the stuffing from a squeaky toy.

The cyber-engineer gave up its futile attempts to reverse the portal, and Ianto looked up as it aimed its wrist-gun at him. Something that wasn't the TARDIS began to hum, and the Doctor yelled "Ianto, no, get out of there!" Red light flashed, and Ianto threw himself to the floor, only to realize that it hadn't come from the cyberman - it juddered in place, sparking woefully and crumpling. Rapid footsteps sounded across the Dome and Oliver and Martha dashed up, each holding a Judoon blaster, tossing awestruck glances at the portal before refocusing. There was another drawn-out whining hum, and as the cyberleader took aim for the Doctor, a red bolt from Martha's gun struck it in the arm, disabling its weaponry. The Doctor yanked a power cable from the equipment and shoved it into the cyberleader's chest cavity.

The Tyrannosaurus dropped its first prize and began to snap erratically, catching the thrashing cyberleader. The portal started to shrink and the dinosaur withdrew its head, taking the metal man with it. The power cable buzzed and sparked, and the blue-white light faded and disappeared. And the Dome was silent.

Ianto stood, staring uncertainly where the portal had been. He cast his eyes to the fallen engineer and his mauled guard, then to the Doctor, who tossed aside the power cable. Ianto strode back to where he had let go of the coat. He scooped it up, smoothed it out and crossed behind the Doctor, slipping it onto his shoulders.

"Can't leave you two alone for five minutes without you picking up a new prehistoric pet," Martha said, grinning.

"Okay, sanity check," Oliver paused. "That was a dinosaur just now, right?"

The Doctor winked and clicked his tongue out the side of his mouth. "Just your basic spacio-temporal hyperlink. Used to muck around with them at school. I calibrated the teleportation coordinates to where we last landed in the TARDIS, before we flew off chasing a pteranodon and her whisperer. So, bitey dinosaur grabs for TARDIS, TARDIS disappears, big shiny magic door appears, bitey dinosaur grabs cyberman! When in doubt, summon a bigger fish!" He spun on his heel to face Ianto. "We should name him!"

Ianto chuckled, still quivering with adrenaline. "Fezzik. We'll call him Fezzik. My turn for a sanity check, is it? Did you really pull the 'he's behind you' trick on a cyberman?"

"Yes! Yes, I did, and it worked! And you all were brilliant, by the way, well done!" The Doctor practically bounced in place, and abruptly grew very serious. "Now, if you two could kindly hand those over?" He held out a hand for each blaster, and they handed them over warily. "No, you're not in trouble. I just don't want Military Intelligence getting their hands on extraterrestrial technology - or cybernetics, for that matter, honestly, sometimes you people never _learn_. Now! My turn for a sanity check. What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay put. Also, how?"

"Service hatch in the Blackwall Tunnel," Martha said briskly. "Tip-off from your Army Captain friend. She called my phone, told us to warn you; the Army's planning to blow up the entire Dome and we need to go now."

"What, seriously?!"

"No, I'm making it up," she retorted. "Yes, seriously, can we go?"

"You could've phoned!" He stowed the blasters in his pockets.

"You didn't answer!"

He nodded. "Right, TARDIS, now."

"You will stand down, sir!" The order was barked from across the Dome from a crusty, terrier-like little man with a crown and two stars on his epaulets, and endorsed by a squad of soldiers leveling their weapons at the four of them.

* * *

><p>The Doctor placed himself in front of the others, hands in the air and a bitter scowl on his face. "Well, well, well, here come the cavalry. So nice of you to join us."<p>

"Your presence here is unauthorized. Stand away from the equipment, keep your hands visible at all times."

"Ugh, the gratitude," Martha snapped as she and Oliver put their hands up. Behind the others, Ianto began to edge carefully backwards.

"Sir," Oliver stepped forward, voice tremulous. "The Geneva Convention defines a lawful noncombatant as someone responsible for their subordinates, and... well, their subordinates, or having d-distinctive insignia recognizable at a distance, or openly carrying weapons, or conducting their operations in accordance with the customs of war. And... Martha and I, we're medical students at Royal Hope. The Convention also says that medics qualify as lawful noncombatants." The Doctor turned his head and stared openly, giving Oliver an encouraging grin when he faltered. "So... we haven't got uniforms, we're not carrying weapons, we aren't anybody's subordinates, and I don't think setting a dinosaur on a bunch of cyborgs would be anyone's definition of the customs of war. You can't fire on us, we're all civilians." Several soldiers shifted awkwardly and began to lower the barrels of their guns.

"You deny that you are under the command of this individual?" the Colonel growled.

"That would imply that he gives us orders and we follow them," Martha said testily. "I don't think it counts if he gives us reasonable suggestions which we completely ignore."

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck. "Speaking of which, I really don't like it when you do that."

"We warned you about the bombs and took out two cybermen for you," she muttered out the corner of her mouth. "The ones that nearly shot you and Ianto, you're welcome."

"That's not the point," the Doctor said earnestly. "I need you to figure out the difference between when I -"

"Sir!" the Colonel barked again. "You are recognized as a nonresident of this planet and a suspect in various -"

"Not now! Look, there is a difference between when I tell you not to do something and know you're going to do it anyway, and when I tell you not to do something because I have a very good reason for it and expect you to trust my judgment. This goes for you too, Ianto. Ask if you have to, use a bit of sense, but don't assume you can just ignore it."

"Noted." Ianto watched the soldiers, who watched the Doctor, and took another step.

"Martha? Understood?"

"Understood."

"Sir, you will step away from -"

"Oi, Colonel - what's your name?"

"Colonel Barnard, and you -"

"Colonel Barnard, wait your turn!" Without missing a beat, he turned back to Martha. "See, I asked you to stay put, cause I wanted you and Olly-Oliver away from the cybermen and the Army in case something like this were to happen. A sudden but inevitable betrayal, as it were. Ianto was already here and there wasn't much I could do about that, but I thought I could at least keep you two safe. I'm just glad you had good reasons for coming anyway and it wasn't just for its own sake."

Martha nodded and she and Oliver looked suitably chastened. "Although," she added, "they can't shoot us. Oliver said so."

"True. Rather brilliantly, too, I like him, can we keep him?" Oliver bit his lip, trying to hide a bashful smile.

"You didn't let me keep Myfanwy!" Ianto protested half-heartedly.

"Aaaanyway, Colonel Barnard!" The Doctor nodded towards the gently sparking metal and circuits. "Last of the cybermen, dead as dim sum, just like I promised. And I seem to recall that you lot promised us amnesty. And sandwiches."

"You are recognized as a nonresident of this planet and a suspect in various acts of extraterrestrial terrorism, including the Battle of Canary Wharf," Barnard pronounced through gritted teeth.

"What?!"

"You and your companion, Mr. Ianto Jones, are under arrest pending investigation. You will step away from the vessel and keep your hands visible at all times." Ianto froze.

The Doctor looked outraged. "Whaaat?! But... why? And why him?"

"All surviving employees of Canary Wharf Tower were suspected as complicit in the attack, to be cross-examined in UNIT custody."

The Doctor snorted. "Oh, that's lovely, so you can't shoot us but you can arrest us, well, you're looking at the man who gave said UNIT custodians a spanking and a time-out for their 'cross-examinations.'" As the Doctor continued his diatribe, Ianto began to move again. "And what makes you think he's the same one? There's loads of Ianto Joneses -"

"You may state your defense during the investigation, now step away from the vessel with your hands in the air."

"I think not. You see, Colonel Barnard, I've had comparatively little affiliation with your military, so rather sadly, I have never managed to cultivate a fear of shouty, red-faced little men with bristly mustaches. I have, however, spent centuries defending this planet from the horrors of various abysses, and would _really _appreciate it if you all would return the favor by letting me and my companions go in peace on our quest for sandwiches and banana milkshakes."

"Sir, I repeat, you are under arrest and will surrender all weapons and technology -"

"'M not carrying any weapons!" The Doctor winced inwardly, unaccustomed to that statement being a barefaced lie. "And where's Captain Sarandon in all this, hmm?" he demanded. "She was there when your Major Burton agreed on amnesty. Were you informed of this?"

"I was," Barnard said distastefully, mustache quivering. "After I was informed that my division chose to consult a renegade extraterrestrial on a military operation. Neither of which decisions were verified by myself, nor would they have been."

"Well, your lot took the initiative to ask for my help, and I agreed! I was more than happy to give you what you needed to take down the cybermen, as long as you didn't try to clap me in irons the moment I cleaned up your mess! You don't care whether I am or not, you just want the credit to go to you. Something to boast about at the next Christmas party, well, guess what, you can have your credit, fat lot of good may it do you! I don't need it, I just want to leave. And you've reneged on the terms of negotiations, not to mention I've yet to see an arrest warrant."

"Negotiations with suspected terrorists are hardly obligatory, and given your status as an extraterrestrial and his status as missing, presumed dead, the circumstances for a warrant are hardly ordinary." Barnard waved two soldiers forward, who produced handcuffs. "Any attempt to intervene or depart will be viewed as obstruction or evasion of arrest -"

"Let them go." The Doctor cut him off. "I'll play nice, answer your questions, hell, I'll fill out your bloody paperwork, but my friends are innocent, let them go." He took a step forward, and something went _VWOOOMP_.

* * *

><p>The Doctor, the TARDIS, Ianto, Oliver, Martha, what was left of the cybermen and the teleportation device were suddenly enveloped in a transparent fishbowl-like shield. The approaching soldiers walked straight into it and it rippled with blue light and rebuffed them. The Doctor took three long strides forward and poked the barrier gently, and it flickered again around his finger. He turned to see Ianto kneeling by the force-field generator, withdrawing the sonic screwdriver as the machine purred with life. Ianto stood, blinking innocently.<p>

"Oh..." he whispered. "Oh, OH!" He bounded up and tackled Ianto in an enthusiastic hug. "You. Are. BRILLIANT!" He grabbed Ianto's face in his hands and planted a smacking kiss on his forehead, then skipped back to the barrier to blow a raspberry at Colonel Barnard. "Now that's what I call obstruction!" Martha burst out laughing at his expression of outrage as Oliver looked quizzically between the Doctor and Ianto, who couldn't summon the energy to be anything but relieved.

"We will need to head off within a few minutes, mind," he said a bit shakily. "Bit smaller radius than the last force field we encountered, I don't know how much air we've got."

"Yes, good thinking. We'll start loading up, can you kids put the cybermen in the TARDIS?" The Doctor frowned and added an offhand, "Please."

Martha and Oliver began to tug one of the cybermen towards the TARDIS doors. There was movement at the other end of the Dome, as Captain Sarandon strode in, also flanked by guards. "Sir, we are under orders to withdraw. The Doctor and his companions remain under amnesty according to article 78, section C." Barnard, whose face was a blotchy maroon, didn't move. "And we have Mr. Saxon on-line, he'd like a word with you. Immediately, he said." Barnard glowered and gave the command to move out. Sarandon stood back as the squad filed out of the Dome.

The Doctor turned to Captain Sarandon, eyeing her from behind the barrier. "I'm not letting your technicians get a hold of cybertechnology. I'm planning to destroy them properly."

Sarandon nodded. "Understood. And I believe apologies are in order, as well as thanks," she said diplomatically. "I'm afraid I couldn't get here sooner, I had to oversee the tech personnel with disarming the explosives."

There was a crash from just inside the TARDIS, and Oliver's voice echoed out the door into the Dome. "Oh. My. _God."_ The Doctor grinned. "That is so _cool!_ How does it even work?" Ianto smirked at Oliver's reaction, allowing it to distract him from thinking too hard about the other cyberman that he was dragging away. "I mean, it would sort of have to be, you couldn't fit anything in a box, but all _this!_ It's _huge!_"

"And I believe we owe you thanks for the tip-off," the Doctor said lightly, as though there had been no interruption.

Sarandon's face remained carefully blank. "What tip-off?"

"Yeahhh... by the way, he's a bit crotchety, that Colonel Barnard."

"He was rather enthusiastic about blowing up the Dome," Sarandon said airily. "I think he was disappointed." The Doctor snorted. "I understand you may not wish to prolong our association, but may I say that it has been an honor."

The Doctor's eyebrows shot up. "You sure about that?"

The corners of her mouth twitched and she gestured towards the police box. "That's not to say I don't wonder how they manage to put up with you."

Ianto emerged from the TARDIS and headed for the teleportation device, fixing the Doctor with a sharp look as he went. "What did you do?" The Doctor opened his mouth. "Don't answer that, I don't want to know." He wound the cables into a coil around his arm and trailed them back to the ship. Sarandon looked amused.

"Listen, Captain, next time the Earth's in trouble, and I'm sure it'll only be a matter of time, you can contact me again. Just, not on official terms. No more bureaucracy, no more protocols, no more elbowing in the ribs. But I'll never leave this planet unprotected. You need my help, call me."

Sarandon smiled properly. "Sir." She saluted crisply.

"Aw, no, no, don't salute. Go on, off you go, we've got this covered. Actually - I reckon there's a car in the Blackwall Tunnel parked near a service hatch, would your lot mind getting it back to Royal Hope?"

She smiled ruefully. "I'll see what I can do."

"Brilliant. Thanks for everything." He gave her a cheeky wink and scampered off to the TARDIS. "Oi, Olly-Oliver! We're giving you a lift!"

* * *

><p>"So what about that cyberman that the T-rex ran off with?" Martha asked as they finished loading the teleportation device and the force field generator.<p>

"Oh, it'll probably drop bits and pieces of it around the Cretaceous Era. Got to keep the ARC on their toes. And I'll be using the generator for the TARDIS. Got the extrapolator to give her shields, but this'll give them a bit of oomph, a bit of ba-da-boom! Now, then - Oliver, I suppose you'd be wanting to get back to the hospital?"

"Probably should, yeah," he said reluctantly, staring at the coral pillars.

"Unless... I dunno, d'you fancy a field trip? Want to go meet Hippocrates? Might give you a leg up on your exams, although mind you leave out anything he says about the four humors..."

Oliver gaped. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"Oh dear," Ianto murmured. "I think you broke him."

Oliver grinned sheepishly. "One thing though... Martha, how long has it been since you left?"

"Starting from Shakespeare? Erm..."

The Doctor tapped a few buttons on the scanner. "Bout 160 hours, total. Six days and change, has it only been a week?"

"Royal Hope's not getting her back any time soon, is it?" Oliver said knowingly. Martha scuffed her foot on the floor. "Didn't think so. Someone's got to hold the fort. Anyway, I'm going to have to face the music, I've been off my shift for a quite a bit."

The Doctor patted the console. "Time machine. I can get you back right when you left." Oliver's jaw dropped again. "Cool, huh?"

"But no, that makes sense! I think you already have!"

"What? How d'you mean?"

"Oh my god, you're right!" Martha's face lit up. "Cause we saw him, across the hall, just as we were leaving."

"We didn't really cross paths, just got a quick glimpse, and then left."

The Doctor winced. "Crossing your own time-stream is kind of a big time-travel no-no unless you _really _know what you're doing." He paused, considered. "Luckily, I do. Do you remember what time this was? 'Cause we're getting you back just as you leave and not before."

"Come again?" Oliver frowned. "No... wait, okay, I think I got it."

"Sure you don't want to come meet Hippocrates?"

He shifted, sighed. "Tell you what, I'll call if I hear about anything spooky, any more upside down rain or giant web stars, and if you need another hand, you'll know where to find me."

Martha hugged him impulsively. "Or we'll just come and get you after you pass your exams." She turned to the Doctor. "Captain Sarandon called at about 2:20, so we'll shoot for half two?"

The Doctor smiled. "Well, least I can do is get you back on time. Which, I think we can manage, but the TARDIS is still a bit cranky - not to mention designed for six pilots-"

"And he failed his driver's license exam-" Ianto added slyly.

The Doctor stuck his tongue out and continued, "So I'll need all hands on deck if we want to get this right. Ianto, I need you to start out with the gyroscopic stabiliser, Martha, I need you to toggle the harmonic generator - that's that purpley lever there. Olly, when I say when, press that squiggly button; that's the gravitic anomalyser, and Ianto, that's when I'll need you to floor the helmic regulator." He picked up the mallet and twirled his wrist, spinning it rakishly. "And then grab the rails and for god's sakes, _hold on_. Oliver, you're going to love this bit." He pulled the handbrake.

_Thud. Vwoorp, vwoorp, vwooorrp._


	35. Human Nature: Pt 1

**So, for those of you who haven't been following Faith, Trust and Pixie Dust, I encourage you to pop over and read ch. 2, which contains, among other things: me begging for forgiveness for the long haitus, **angst, fluff, more Princess Bride references, exposition, and grocery store shenanigans.****

**Human Nature will be formatted a little differently from the episode, but I'll do my best to keep things self-consistent.**

* * *

><p><em>"Get down!"<em>

Ianto and Martha tumbled onto the grating as a bolt of green light hit the console with a sickly screech and a shower of sparks and smoke.

The Doctor flung the door closed and leaped to his feet. "You okay? Both of you okay, are you hurt?" Panting, wide-eyed, they looked up and shook their heads. He gave them both a hand up and gestured urgently. "Did they see you?"

"I don't know!" Martha cried.

"It's important, did they see your faces?"

"We were a little busy running -" Ianto protested, "but I don't -"

"But did they see you?!" he demanded.

"- think so, no, they couldn't have," he finished.

"Right!" The Doctor tossed his coat over the crook of the pillar, spinning around mid-dash and making a face. "And, just for the record, I wanted to see the Housemartins!" He made a snippy face, dashed around the console and yanked the handbrake. The time rotor began to shift, but the console screen flashed and emitted a warning screech. He growled in frustration. "They're following us!"

"How can they do that? You've got a time machine!"

"Stolen technology," the Doctor explained, words nearly blurred, tumbling over each other in their haste to escape. "They've got a Time Agent's vortex manipulator. They can follow us wherever we go, right across the universe - they're never going to stop." He ran a hand through his hair, thinking furiously. "Unless..." he murmured. "I'll have to do it..." He whipped around and stared at them. "You trust me, don't you?"

"Of course," Martha said earnestly.

"Obviously. Mind you, those words don't exactly instill me with confidence."

The Doctor looked harried. "Well, something had better, 'cause this all depends on you two." He dove below the console, grappled underneath one of the panels and resurfaced with a metal pocket watch, holding it up. "Take this watch, 'cause my life depends on it. This watch is _me_."

Ianto took the watch and peered at the circular pattern. "Come again?"

The Doctor darted around the other side of the console and Martha followed with a "Wait, hold on! Completely lost!"

The Doctor shifted another lever and punched a few more buttons. "Those creatures are hunters, they can sniff out anyone- and me being a Time Lord; well, I'm unique. They can track me down across the whole of time and space."

Martha laughed nervously. "And the good news is?"

"They're not actually Time Agents," Ianto reasoned. "I count that as a plus."

"Yeah, but at least with Time Agents you can bribe them with shiny things. But this lot, they can smell me, they haven't seen me. And their lifespan's bound to be running out- so, we hide, wait for them to die."

"But they can track us down... so where does the watch come in?"

"I have to stop being a Time Lord. I'm gonna become human."

"Is that possib- no, wait - _how_ is that possible? You're going to use a watch to turn yourself into a human? How does that even work?"

"But hang on a tick," Martha cut in. "If your plan is to wait for them to die, why can't we trap them in - I don't know, like a containment field, or just imprison them somewhere, like with the Carrionites?"

"Excellent idea, but they've got the upper hand, I'm afraid. Access to the time vortex, firepower, shields, a really nice ship, they could probably break in or out of any physical prison I could find. And if I tried to trap them in a containment vortex or any kind of temporal prison they'd just absorb the energy, it'd make them more powerful. I could try a little temporary olfactory misdirection to try to draw them out, but I couldn't keep it up for long. Which means I'd have to stay human, in one place and time, for - call it two and a half, three months."

"Three months?" Martha said doubtfully.

His smile faded. "Yeah, I know, I'm sorry, but we need to get them off our tail, and fast, and... this is the best I've got."

"Who's to say they'll follow us in linear time?" Ianto countered. "If they can... smell you through time, they'd pop up at the end of the three months, just when you change back to Time-Lord, with their life-spans still intact."

"Look at you both!" Despite the urgency of the situation, the Doctor favoured them with the 'adorable, clever, brilliant little humans, I'm so proud of you' smile. "Keeping me on my toes, you've thought of everything! But they're locked onto the TARDIS's timestream, so they're following me now, they're not going after a past or – well, hopefully - future version of me. Apart from a tiny margin of error, three months for us should be three for them."

She nodded. "Okay."

The Doctor toggled a button and a metal headset descended on a cable. "Never thought I'd use this." Ianto eyed it suspiciously. "All the times I've wondered..."

"What does it do?" Martha asked.

"Chameleon Arch," the Doctor said significantly, words echoing around the chamber. "Re-writes my biology. Literally changes every single cell in my body. I've set it to human." He plucked the watch from Ianto's fingers and fitted it into the casing of the headset, carrying on a rapid-fire explanation as the Welshman's expression steadily darkened. "Now, the TARDIS will take care of everything. Invent a life story for me, find me a setting and integrate me. Can't do the same for you, I'm afraid... you'll just have to improvise. I should have just enough residual awareness to let you in."

"Woah, back that up a bit. You're not just physiologically altering yourself, you're tucking away all your memories?"

"Nine hundred years of travelling and the knowledge of time and space and the inner workings of the universe, everything that ever happened and ever will, trapped in a human body with one heart and a wonky metabolism and a funny little human brain?! It'd make your head explode!" the Doctor said waspishly. "Trust me, I saw it nearly happen to Rose - she absorbed the Time Vortex and it almost killed her. Technically killed me. Anyway, my Time Lord DNA will reassert itself when the watch is opened, and my memories will be restored."

"Okay. But if you're going to rewrite every single cell - isn't it going to hurt?" Martha asked.

Staring at the headset, the Doctor murmured, "Oh, yeah, it hurts." He wheeled around with a theatrical jerk. "Right! So! I have to set up security protocols, and I'll leave you some instructions that you can refer back to later. Go get something to eat, I don't think you should be trying to assimilate into a new time on an empty stomach. Meet me back here in fifteen minutes." He darted forward and kissed them both on the forehead. "Go on, off you go."

* * *

><p>The Doctor's screams died away and Martha loosened her grip around the lapels of Ianto's suit. His arms were still locked around her back, and he was trembling. The Chameleon Arch disengaged, and the Doctor swayed dangerously. They pulled away from each other and darted forward, catching him as he slumped.<p>

Martha felt for his wrist and neck with practiced fingers. "Bit of a thready pulse, but not serious, where's he keep that stethoscope?" Without waiting for an answer, she dug into the lower pocket of his suit coat - "Bigger on the inside, why am I not surprised?" - and retrieved it. "Yeah, heart's going like mad, but that's probably to be expected, that would have been a major shock to the system - and he doesn't have an extra one to help him along - Ianto? Ianto!" Martha snapped her fingers in front of him, caught his gaze and held it. "You with us?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," he said quickly.

The TARDIS wheezed and bucked, and a flickering blue hologram of the Doctor appeared next to the console._ "This is emergency protocol 26 - delta. If you're receiving this message, I have been compromised, incapacitated, or otherwise rendered incapable of piloting the TARDIS. This protocol has triggered programmed coordinates: -2.65442, 52.07652, Farringham, Herefordshire, England, United Kingdom, September 8th, 1913. Please pull the handbrake to initiate an emergency landing for primary coordinates_." There was a long pause. _"...Any time now, quick as you like._" Ianto leaped to his feet and yanked the handbrake, and the TARDIS shifted into a steady grind. The ship fell silent as they landed, the lights began to dim, and the scanner buzzed an alert as the Gallifreyan spirals scrolled into English text. Martha glanced up before turning back to the Doctor. She loosened his tie, belt, and cuffs before bundling up her jacket, tucking it underneath him.

"She's got his cover story sorted. John Smith: born May 17, 1878," Ianto read, willing the tremor out of his voice. "Birth certificate, medical history, school transcripts, references - oh, application for position as a history teacher at the Farringham School for Boys."

"Yeah, great, can I borrow your suit coat?" Martha said distractedly, propping the Doctor's knees up. Ianto handed it off and crouched beside her as she tucked it around the Doctor's torso.

"Is he alright?" Ianto murmured.

She exhaled unsteadily. "I don't know how long it'll be, how long he needs, if I should wake him up or let him come to on his own," she said in a rush. "Argh! Med school didn't prepare me for what to do when someone _changes their species_!" Ianto knelt down with a worried expression, but before he could speak she took a deep breath. "Okay. Right, okay, condition is stable. He's not in shock, but I've treated him as if, I'd like to keep it from getting there while he's adjusting. Airway is clear, breathing is starting to regulate, no physical injuries. Skin is dry, not grey or clammy." She scrabbled under the console and retrieved an alien thermometer from a small, sturdy case tucked into a niche. She pressed the buttons on the side and placed it over his forehead. "Arrgh! Arcturan scale. Centigrade, there we go. Okay, 37, his temperature's normal - human normal. Pass me that penlight?" Ianto handed it over so she could check his eyes. "Pupils dilating normally, that's a good sign."

When she looked up again, he was smiling gently. "You know what? You're doing fine. He's in good hands."

Tension bled out of her shoulders. "He's... fine. I'm going to guess and say that the stress of whatever the hell that was physically exhausted him, and he's in some kind of restorative sleep."

Ianto nodded and stood. "Gives us some breathing space to get sorted, then." He glanced around the console room, uncharacteristically quiet and grey. The scanner blipped again, and he turned a dial that pulled up a video.

_"This working? Okay, kids. Before I change, here's a list of instructions for when I'm human..."_

* * *

><p><em>"Number nine, <em>_which isn't actually much of a rule, but! Anyway! A__s you've seen with Professor Lazarus, __DNA modification can be a nasty business if done improperly. This should be safe enough because Time Lords usually know - knew what they were doing. But, if it's anything like I think it might be, I will probably be out of it while my body is adjusting, which brings me to number ten, which isn't really a rule either. __The TARDIS can't make up a backstory for you, but she can at least help you sort out clothes and a list of things you'll need to fit whatever time period we end up in. I've programmed her to access information from the library database and the wardrobe. There's interface screens in both places, so you'll have enough time to read and pack before I'm awake enough to go wandering about, let alone lucid enough to be wondering why I'm in a spaceship."_

"1913," Martha murmured dubiously, hovering over the matrix screen in a corner of the wardrobe. "Not going to have a lot of options, am I? No walking around like we own the place if we're trying to blend in."

"Theoretically speaking, it is a logical choice for a time period," Ianto allowed, voice echoing in the circular chamber from where he stood on the spiral helix staircase. "It's more difficult to adapt to the future, rather than the past and a familiar history. And we've been to 1909, so it's even more familiar." He paused, briefly fingering the fabric of a midnight blue highwayman's coat from the 1780s as it swiveled by on the endless mobile carousel of clothing. "We're still on Earth, on home territory that's quiet and remote enough that our odds of running into many kinds of trouble are significantly lower. But the cultural attitudes that we'll be dealing with..." Ianto exhaled heavily. "I don't blame you for not looking forward to it."

He descended the staircase, and Martha pursed her lips and set her jaw. "I'm probably going to have to be a servant, probably, like... yeah, here we go, housemaid. I'll be looking for something like this." She pointed to a heavy black dress and starched apron when he approached. He leaned over her shoulder to scroll through the information. "What about you, then? You could be his brother or something."

"Well, the resemblance between us _is_ uncanny."

Martha frowned. "Trying to help."

"Sorry. But I barely pass for his illegitimate half-brother, and imagine the scandal_ that_ would cause. No, I think you're onto something with servants- we need to blend in, stay unnoticed. So... like a butler, I could be a butler."

"Well... hold on." Martha scanned the screen. "Maybe more like a valet? Only it says a butler's practically in charge of the household, you wouldn't get to that at your age with no training. I dunno, there's plenty of maids-of-all-work, and all the men get the high-ranking jobs. No car, so chauffeur's out. A valet's more like a personal servant - a gentleman's gentleman, and the Doctor's only a teacher."

"Well, it's a boarding school. Maybe they'll need a janitor, or a caretaker, or a librarian."

"It's worth a try."

"And if we can't get a place at the school, there's at least a village nearby, where we could find work. It'd be harder to keep an eye on him, but it'll do as a back-up plan."

* * *

><p>They reconvened in the console room. Martha wore the dress and apron; Ianto a grey wool suit with high lapels, worn over a waistcoat and high-collared shirt with a slim black tie.<p>

He held up a sheaf of papers. "I've used his documents as a template to create similar ones for us; references and such - printed them off in the study." He caught the gently swaying Arch and unlocked the watch, glaring at the silver devices almost resentfully. The Doctor - John, now, Mr. Smith - gave a low moan, blinking listlessly.

Martha knelt beside him. "D- Mr. Smith? Mr. Smith, can you hear me?"

"Mmmf... huh?" Smith's brown eyes slid into focus. He frowned and licked his dry lips. "Martha?"

Martha nodded eagerly, pleased at the recognition. "That's right, Mr. Smith. Think you can stand up?"

He nodded vaguely in assent. "Jones?" She opened her mouth to speak, and cut herself off, looking at Ianto.

"Ah. Yes, right here, sir." They pulled Smith to his feet, and he looked about blankly. Martha glanced at Ianto with a 'what now?' sort of look. "We're headed to the school this afternoon; you'd better get dressed for the interview." Smith nodded, and Ianto pulled a folded bundle of tweed from where it had been set aside on the console seat. "There's an anteroom just that way, sir, to your left. We'll be on our way once you've gotten sorted."

Smith nodded, took the clothes and ambled down the corridor.

"How long do you think we have before he realizes where he is?" Martha murmured.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

* * *

><p>"Travelling bags?"<p>

"Yep."

"Important papers?"

"Check."

"TARDIS keys? Fob watch?"

"Uh-huh."

"Ready?"

"Yes."

Martha glanced at the still vague and docile Mr. Smith, and sighed. "Yeah, me neither."


	36. Human Nature: Pt 2

**Apologies for the wait - I was applying to colleges. This chapter is quite a long one, at 5,000 words (compared to my average of 3,000) so I hope that makes up for it a bit. **It would not be what it is without Patrick Timberson, who gave me the replica copy of John Smith's Journal of Impossible Things, and Elena Cicada, my fabulous editor and beta and official 'kicker-of-writerly-insecurities.' Thank you both; a****nd thank you, dear readers, for putting up with me and my chronic untimely-ness.****

**Thought I'd go ahead and caution for sensitive material: this chapter presents and explores some of the mentalities behind racial prejudice, using both the scenes that occur in the episode, and some analysis of the social constructs that allow for it******.****

* * *

><p><em>September 10th, 1913<em>

_Two, don't worry about the TARDIS, I'll put her on emergency power so they can't detect her, just let her hide away._

Sunlight filtered through slots in the rafters of the barn, and Martha appraised it in the dim light as Ianto locked the TARDIS behind them.

"Looks like this will be your new home for a while," he murmured, setting his palm to the blue paneling.

Martha chuckled softly. "You fuss over her almost as much as he does." Ianto looked around, and she shrugged, rolling her shoulders at the fit of the starched dress and thick grey travelling coat. "What? I think it's sweet."

* * *

><p><em>September 11th, 1913<em>

"It's not cold enough in the season yet to lay the fires in the morning, so you'll be helping me clean and dust the rooms in the East Wing," Jenny explained. "After that, we'll bring the breakfast trays 'round to the teachers. Our breakfast is at quarter past eight in the servants' hall. Inspection for the East Wing and the female quarters are done by Mrs. Carraway at a quarter to nine, and morning prayers are at nine."

"Prayers?" Martha asked, flustered, as she hurried after the senior housemaid.

"Yes, prayers, don't be daft, what did you expect?"

"Right, of course, it's just… Mr. Smith's family wasn't really in the habit." Jenny's face held a hint of disapproval, and Martha shrugged apologetically. "I may need a bit of help in catching up. So, um, breakfast, inspection, prayers – this may sound silly, but what about people like Mr. Philips, and Matron? Are they teachers?"

Mollified, and taking the deflection in stride, Jenny explained, "They're not considered teachers, no, but we bring them trays and tidy their rooms, just the same."

"Okay. So what happens next?"

"Half past nine, the boys will be in class, that's when we'll start tidying the dormitories. We'll change and launder the sheets every Thursday…"

* * *

><p><em>September 13th, 1913<em>

_Four... no, wait a minute, three. No getting involved in big historical events._

"Ah, now then, you two." Baines halted. "You're not paid to have fun, are you? Put a little backbone into it."

Jenny looked up from scrubbing. "Yes, sir, sorry, sir."

"You there, what's your name again?" Hutchinson said loftily.

"Martha, Sir. Martha Jones."

"Tell me then, Jones. With hands like those, how can you tell when something's clean?"

Martha watched as the boys moved off, Baines' guffaws echoing down the hall. "That's very funny, Sir."

"Careful now, don't answer back," Jenny warned.

"I'd answer back with my bucket over his head!"

"Oh, I wish! Just think though - in a few years time, boys like that will be running the country."

"Nineteen thirteen," Martha murmured. "They might not."

* * *

><p><em>From the desk of John Smith:<em>

_September 14th, 1913_

_The box. It's my home, I know it well, but it is huge, bigger on the inside than the outside. It's my magic box. Nothing can harm me here. Unless I get lost inside it. And there is something to do the law, with the Police, although when I am inside it I do not think of myself as representing the authorities. I feel almost as a fugitive._

_I have this magic, almost pen-like implement that opens anything and lights up with a bright white light when I use it._

_September 15th, 1913_

_There were men of metal, and they marched in rows, going to war. Their eyes were black and there were no expressions on their faces. If they had once felt like men, and could decide whether or not they were going to be slaughtered, that was over now. The machine had recruited them and changed them._

_September 16th, 1913_

_I have been different; it is not like remembering one's youth, it is like dreaming yourself as a prince or a clown. Not oneself playing those parts, but actually being that other person. I have inhabited the clothes of scholars and jesters, and… I may have played cricket for England! This is one of the most important dreams, not a trivial one, I am sure of it._

_September 17th, 1913_

_In my dreams I am a father and a grandfather – a great sadness at this thought, as though they had not just died, all my progeny, but had departed in a way that was somehow more final than death. I am the last, for some reason. I am terribly afraid that my watch is broken. I can't remember what they look like, I just see shadows in the dark._

* * *

><p><em>Ianto Jones' diary: Travels Through Time and Space<em>

_Linear Progression: Day 243_

_September 18th, 1913 – Herefordshire, England_

_It's a curious sort of job, being the librarian. I'm not a teacher, nor am I one of the servants; just sort of stuck in between. It's familiar work, at least. And it's pleasant, even, to have a consistent routine again – a respite from the dashing about, the unpredictability, the near-death experiences. I have my own quarters off to the back, and I take meals there alone instead of downstairs with the servants. That's practically my only chance to see Martha, when she comes by with food, or to tidy up. She's adapted well, and seems to be making the best of things. I say 'seems.' Seems, if one doesn't know better. Doesn't know what it looks like when someone's pretending that everything's alright. _

_That said, l occasionally have a naggling suspicion that every single person in this place goes about pretending everything's alright, and are so busy trying to keep it up that nobody notices how everybody else is doing the same thing. Except for John, perhaps. He seems happy - well, content, I suppose. I think that's been the biggest difference between him and the Doctor; he's not half as intense, and I guess it has to do with the acceptance of what his life is, and the lack of inclination to question it -_

"Jones, have you got a moment?"

Ianto slid his diary under a shelf. "Several, I think, sir, it's been very quiet today."

"Good, good, I was wondering if you might help me with a bit of a project."

"Certainly. What did you have in mind?"

"It's… well, um –" John scratched the back of his neck, and Ianto winced at the pang of familiarity. "It's a bit… fanciful, you see, but I have these most extraordinary dreams. And, well, I've written them down on paper and was hoping to keep them all in a – a collection. I thought… you've been repairing some of the older books, so you might be able to help me put something together."

Ianto smiled fondly. "I'd be happy to, sir."

* * *

><p><em>September 20th, 1913<em>

"Ah, good afternoon, Matron!"

"Afternoon, Mr. Smith." Matron Redfern smiled warmly, puttering about the rows of cots in the hospital wing. "I hope there hasn't been much trouble with the boys while I've been gone?"

"Oh, a scrape here, and a sniffle there. Nothing more, thank heavens, although I'm sure we're all glad you weren't away any longer." He stared absently at the way the light caught her hair. There had been a woman in his dream last night, her hair a shade or two redder – she was a doctor, a medical doctor, who operated on the heart. It was a preposterous notion, though the dream took place nearly a hundred years into the future, at the turn of a new millennium –

"And were you here about anything in particular, Mr. Smith, or is this purely a social occasion?"

In the midst of his reverie, he missed the tease in her voice. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to be in your way."

"No, no, I don't object in the slightest," she assured him. "Though, since you're here, perhaps you could get that basin off the shelf? It's a bit past my reach."

"Oh, of course. So, everything go alright at the Pratchett's? Mother and child both doing well, I hope?"

"Very well, I think. Dr. Sheppard will return from town this evening to see them, but I'm happy to report that Mrs. Pratchett has birthed a very healthy baby girl. They'll have the christening this Sunday, and they mean to name her Grace."

John fumbled with the tin basin as it nearly slipped through his hands. "Grace?"_ Grace, don't you see? I have thirteen lives – always seeing patterns in things that aren't there – can make it come true today -_

"Yes, why?"

He frowned. _Puccini! We've met before – Low tech? Grace, this is a type 40 TARDIS – these shoes! They fit perfectly!_ "Hmm? Oh, nothing, it's just a lovely name." He handed her the basin, met her eyes, and smiled again. After a long moment he realized he was staring, and collected himself. "So, ah, how's the Pratchett farm getting on?"

Matron looked a little bemused, but carried on smoothly. "Oh, thriving. Their orchards are going through harvest, and they've been supplying the school with fruit for the season…"

* * *

><p><em>October 6th, 1913<em>

_Eleven: look after each other._

_Twelve, and try to put up with being looked after, honestly, if there's one thing the two of you are rubbish at, it's letting someone else look after you._

"You should be in bed," Ianto murmured, setting the lantern on the wooden floor in the Biography section. Martha stiffened at the sound of his voice. She was sitting against the shelves, huddled up in a drape of black cloth with her arms wrapped around her knees, and he watched her shoulders tremble with the effort to stifle the sound of her crying. After a long moment, she swiped her face hastily against her apron before looking up at Ianto, in his pinstriped pajamas and thick wool dressing gown.

"So should you," she muttered, swallowing back a sniff and clearing her throat. "Thought you were gone."

"I needed more ink. I was writing." Ianto faltered, gesturing in a vaguely desk-like direction. Ink now relegated a few notches down on the priority list, he crouched in front of her. "Want to tell me what's wrong?"

She shook her head. "'S nothing. I'm just… being silly."

He shrugged. "Tell me anyway?"

She took a deep breath and nodded at the stack of folded grey wool by her feet. "I was s'posed to have the mending done for Mrs. Carraway by first thing tomorrow. Gave it to Jenny to see if it passed muster, she took one look and said I'd have to do it all over again."

"Ah." He sat next to her up against the bookshelf. "And you've been up since 6:00 this morning, scrubbing floors and doing laundry and changing bedsheets and dusting and –"

"Emptying chamber pots," Martha grimaced. "And when the food's going round downstairs they always make sure I eat last, so that it's cold and there's just bits left. I don't even know why, is it just out of spite? And I haven't had a proper bath in a month and I'm lucky if I get to wash my hands and the only other person doesn't treat me like dirt besides you and Mr. Smith is Jenny, and she keeps going on about how lucky we are to work in a place like this, how grateful we should be, but I don't know if I can stand two more months of this!" Her words tumbled out and ended in a ragged shudder, and she tucked her head back into the folds of her skirts, facing away. Ianto carefully laid a hand between her shoulders. She shivered, but let him rub her back through the fresh wave of tears.

"Sorry about this," she whispered once the choked-off sobs were spent. "I think I just needed to –"

"Don't you dare apologize," Ianto said hoarsely. "I only wish you came and found me sooner." He frowned. "I wish you would have come and found me in the first place, instead of hiding."

"Wasn't planning on any of it, I think it all just sort of hit me." She sat back against the shelves and rolled out some of the sore muscles from the day's work. She nudged him gently, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. "Not like you can talk, Mister."

"True," he conceded. "But there's a difference between needing to be alone to cope, and thinking you have no other option but to cope alone."

"I know, but when they're giving me looks for slipping up and using your first name, I'm not going to take my chances by coming around here too often. And _you're too tall._" He mumbled an apology when her head fell off his shoulder and she squirmed uncomfortably against the bookshelf. "Look, we knew it was going to be like this, just... you have to let me keep my head down and do what needs to be done, alright?"

"I didn't know," Ianto whispered. "That it would be like this. I mean, I thought I did, intellectually - but that's not the same, is it?"

"No, d'you think?" Martha gave a frustrated snort and untied the lace cap on her head, bunching it up and chucking it at the pile of clothing. "Sometimes, I'll say something daft. I forget, and slip up, or I just don't even know what to do, and they'll look at me like they know, like everything I do is just proof that I don't belong here. And it's different for you."

She glanced at his face, crossed by shadows in the lamp light. "And I think you know that," she went on. "Something about the time, you just sort of... fit. Never mind that you're going to have an easier time keeping a low profile if they don't question your right to be here in the first place."

"I'm so-" She elbowed him gently in the stomach.

"And right now, that's a good thing," she said firmly. "'Cause I've got enough on my plate worrying about Mr. Smith and aliens and trying to stay on my toes, at least I don't have to worry about you, too."

"You shouldn't have to worry about me."

"Nor you me, and here we are, with rule eleven unnecessary and rule twelve broken like a - a... oh, sod it, it's late, I'm not making up metaphors."

"Similes."

"Whatever!" She giggled a little hysterically. "Oh, god, I'm almost hoping the Family does show up soon, I'd rather deal with them than this lot of arrogant little snotrags."

Ianto chuckled. "Won't be so full of themselves when you save their arses from space aliens, huh?"

"Wouldn't believe it if they saw it. After all, a woman of my colour could never be capable of such a thing." Her voice slipped into a haughty pastiche of the professors' clipped accents. "That would be impossible."

"Mm, just like aliens." He huffed. "Why, though? Why bother denying something if it were to happen right in front of them?"

"S 'about power, innit? Having control and losing it. Like the Judoon in the hospital, people would rather rationalize it into something they can understand. 'Cause a bigger universe is too much."

Ianto's left eyebrow fluctuated witheringly. "And apparently an intelligent, capable woman is an equally difficult concept to rationalize?"

"And equally as terrifying," Martha affirmed. "People say that kind of thinking will tear apart everything society holds dear, and they're right! Because it forces society to change, and removes the authority that they thought was their birthright. Because once their 'inferiors' have a taste of what they're capable of, how could they go back? How could they spend their life being a dutiful wife or caretaker or servant, when they know they can be so much more?"

"That's where they get the whole 'know your place' thing, then?" Ianto frowned. "What, so they think that if everyone else is allowed to act like human beings -"

"Then they're going to lose their comfy little existence where people will bow and scrape and cater to their whims. And there's more to it; all those lords and masters, they're scared that they'll be given a taste of their own medicine. It probably doesn't even occur to them that most people just want their own life, they _don't actually want_ to turn the tables and make everyone else scrub the floors. But those masters can't comprehend that, they think, 'who wouldn't?' Because that's what they've done and would do again. And they insist that scrubbing floors is all anyone else is good for, and they pass it down. Until people grow up never knowing any different, they just take it for granted that it's how it works."

"Is that how they do it, then? They tell people that they're less than human until everyone believes it?"

"Pretty much. And if they grow up in a society that says nothing but, they'll hear it from their own friends, from people they trust, 'cause no one actually knows better. Like, even when Mr. Smith is being kind, it's still… he's so condescending, he's just humoring me because he takes it for granted that he's superior. 'Cause he's always been allowed to be superior. It's not snide remarks, but it still rankles."

Ianto's head fell back with a sudden revelation. "Ow." He frowned and rubbed it where it hit the bookshelf with a dull thud. "You know, when the Doctor's in one of his Time Lord moods, he acts exactly like that. At least he's equal opportunity about it. Does it to the entire human race, because he's convinced he's far more brilliant than every last one of us."

Martha giggled again. "Right, when we do accomplish something, he acts like we're toddlers who have mastered the alphabet. It's clever, it's precocious, but we still don't know how to read."

"It could be John's memories – the new ones, the John Smith ones, but maybe it comes naturally because of his real memories? If the Time Lords were as unbelievably powerful as he described, so much cleverer than all the other species in the galaxy –"

"Pompous. The lot of them. You reckon?" she mumbled, leaning over and snuggling in against his chest.

"Yeah." He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. "And the Doctor means well, I think he really wants us to make the most of our potential. But I think he'll always believe in his own superiority, just a bit more than he believes in us."

"Mm. We'll show him," she whispered.

A soft laugh rumbled deep in his throat. "Hey, don't get too comfy. You need to go to bed."

"But…"

"Don't worry about the mending."

"I… look, I'll be fine, really, and Jenny's right, it could be so much worse, I can –"

"Martha." He stood, took both of her hands in his and pulled her to her feet. "You need rest. Nuh-uh. Mending. Leave. Come by first thing tomorrow morning." He looked at her mock-sternly. "Good night."

She huffed and swayed against him into another hug, and he kissed her on the temple. "Night, Yan-to."

The next morning, beside the empty lantern, the stack of grey uniforms sat on the chair by Ianto's desk, hemmed and mended with neat, nearly invisible stitches.

* * *

><p><em>October 9th, 1913<em>

_Eighteen, references to anachronistic movies, songs, politics, events, or otherwise non-earth species, customs, technology, what have you, should remain exclusively between yourselves._

"You haven't left me anything to do here," Martha chided. Ianto's room and the library, both kept quite tidy, were distinctly spotless. "Mrs. Carraway's going to get suspicious if I go back down and say the library's done."

"So you'll have a bit of time to spare, then?" Ianto said innocently. "And no one to raise an eyebrow about you being up here?"

"Now that you mention it, it looks like I do. Why? What's going on in that devious brain of yours?"

He sighed and pulled out some strips of cloth and a needle. "Well, I'm not at all keen to add to your workload, but - "

Martha nodded. "I get it. Teach a man to fish, and all that. I can't ask you to cover for me every time there's a bit of stitching to be done."

"I would do it, but I don't want you punished for shirking. I'm hoping this will make things a bit smoother in the long run."

She dragged the other chair around to sit beside him, and grinned ruefully. "Damn it, man, I'm a doctor, not a seamstress."

"Is that one of the perks of going to med school?" Ianto teased. "All the Star Trek references?"

"Oh, yeah. Everyone gets one in at some point or another, even the ones who've never seen any of it."

Ianto chuckled and threaded the needle. "Now, you're probably familiar with a running stitch, since I am given to understand it is useful for open wounds. In this context, it's usually for basic seams, as clothes are not prone to dying of blood loss. Now, to start off, you'll want to know a blind stitch, it's useful for the kind of hemming that they're asking for."

He spent a few minutes demonstrating, and watched carefully as she practiced. After a few minutes, he grabbed her hand mid-stitch.

"What's the matter? Was I getting it wrong?"

"Your hands are shaking."

"Oh. S'fine, probably just low blood sugar."

"It's not fine." Ianto's eyes flashed and his hand clenched around the fabric. "They did it again, didn't they? Stopped you from getting enough food?"

She shrug-nodded. "Yeah, but I'll work something out. Shouldn't be too hard. I still remember when Leo was at that age where he ate everything in- what are you doing?"

Ianto set the sampler down and pulled out another cloth from his desk drawer, unwrapping the two slices of bread it concealed. "Kept these from breakfast, thought you might be needing something to keep your strength up. Looks like I thought right."

"Thank you," she mumbled sheepishly around a mouthful.

He watched her thoughtfully. "You know that thing you said about how people don't actually want to make their lords and masters scrub the floors?"

"Mmhhm?"

"Are you sure we can't make the Doctor do the washing up for a month?"

* * *

><p><em>October 10th, 1913<em>

_"Take this watch, 'cause my life depends on it. This watch is -"_

John opened his eyes, solitary heartbeat pattering away. He winced and sat up. As he got his bearings, he registered someone knocking on the door.

"Come in." He yawned as Martha entered with a tray of tea and toast.

She stopped abruptly and averted her gaze. "Pardon me, Mr. Smith, you're not dressed yet, I can come back later."

"No, 's alright, it's alright, put it down." He shrugged on his heavy dressing gown and sat back against the desk, blinking away the cobwebs of sleep. "I was… um –" He stared, trying to match up the image of Martha in her proper housemaid's uniform with that of the woman in the scandalous jacket and trousers. "Sorry, sorry." Martha moved away to pull back the drapes, letting the morning sunlight into the room. "Sometimes I have the most extraordinary dreams."

"What about, sir?" Martha asked, bustling about the study.

"I dream I'm this… adventurer," John mused. "This daredevil, a madman! The Doctor, I'm called. And last night, I dreamt we were at a concert -"

"We?"

"You were there. You and Jones, as my… companions."

"Quite an unlikely crew for adventures and concerts, sir, if you don't mind my saying."

"It was quite an unlikely concert." His eyes sparkled whimsically. "Such outlandish people, and the strangest music! I was a man from another world, though, and didn't find it strange at all. And it's not the first time you've shown up, I've had many dreams as the Doctor."

Martha smiled indulgently. "Another world, though? I'm afraid there's no such thing, sir, not like ours."

"Ah, well. It was an impossible dream, then, for mine wasn't the only other world. There were creatures following us – I barely saw them, but somehow I knew we couldn't let them see us."

"Creatures, sir?"

"Like... like green smoke, almost. And yet they could smell us, and so I had to hide from them." He frowned as a thought struck him and he crossed to the mantle. "This thing - the watch, it was…" He stared at it and set it down. "Oh, it's funny how dreams slip away. But I do remember one thing," he realized with clarity. "It all took place in the future." Martha raised her eyebrows in encouragement. "In the year of our Lord, 2007."

"Well, I can prove that wrong for you, sir," she said gently. "Here's this morning's paper. It's Monday, October 10th, 1913, and you're completely human, sir. As human as they come."

"Mm, that's me. Completely human." John Smith smiled.

* * *

><p><em>October 11th, 1913<em>

_And five! Very important, five! Don't let me eat pears! I hate pears! John Smith is a character I made up, but he won't know that. He'll think I am him, and he might do something stupid like eat a pear. In three months, I don't want to wake up from being human and taste that._

"So you think these dreams are all connected, somehow?" Ianto asked, poring over a new set of inked paper sheets on John's desk.

"Yes, at least… I do while I'm dreaming them. Has that ever happened to you, where you know something in a dream, as if you've known it all your life - but when you wake up you wonder how you could ever think it possible?"

"Ah, yes. That's dreams for you, though I've never heard it to happen over so many different nights." Among the new slew of blotted drawings, he recognized Novice Hame, and what he suspected was the werewolf that had spawned the founding of Torchwood. "Will these go in any particular order?"

John scratched his chin. "I'm fairly sure these ones did – the cat-nurse, the wolf, the metal dog… although it has shown up before, but for all of these I had the same face – this face." He pointed to his own. "Oh, and the one with the broken clock and the smiling monster in the mask, that came after the dream with the dog." Ianto shuffled them accordingly. "These others, though, you can just put them after. That one's about the other world, the one where the Doctor comes from."

_The skies are burnt orange and the leaves on the trees are silver. I know an old man who lives on the hillside there. And the city has towers! And I dress in my robes, and my collar; I can never get it right. I am so ill suited for it and yet they tell me I'm in charge!_

"This one was a little earlier than these others, when I - he had that face with the ears."

_I am travelling with a Captain in the military, only he is not what he seems, and so I leave him behind after a battle, so alone and so far away from home._ There was a smudged picture, little more than smoothed hair and the collar of a coat. _His face is unclear, but he had a certain uniform, a long coat. He is someone who comes from a long way away._

Engrossed in deciphering the nigh-illegible scrawl, Ianto looked up as there was a crunching noise. His eyes widened in alarm when he saw John serenely chewing a mouthful of pear.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, affecting polite interest.

"Mm –" John swallowed before speaking. "I get a bit peckish between meals, so I asked Martha to bring something up. The fruit bowl was a marvelous idea of hers. These are from the Pratchett farm, would you like one?"

"No, I'm quite alright, thank you." Ianto ducked his head to look at the drawings again so that he could force his smirk into submission.


	37. Human Nature: Pt 3

**Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.**

**Honestly, I have nothing to say for myself except that this plot got away from me.**

* * *

><p><em>October 12th, 1913<em>

Heeled boots thudded on the wooden floor, and Ianto looked up at their approach.

"Finished my duties," Martha announced. "Mending and all, and I've got the rest of the evening off. Thought I'd drop in to say thanks for the lessons."

"Glad you found them helpful. Ah, while you're here?" He put away his book and fixed her with a grave look. "We need to talk."

She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Is this about the pears?"

"Yes, this is about the pears." He held up an open palm. She gave him a blank look, and he elaborated. "High five."

She gave a relieved giggle, and clapped her hand against his. "Actually, there's another reason I came by. Never thought I'd miss the studying, but it's been all work and no think, my brain's going soft. Thought maybe you could recommend something to read."

"Oh, I'm sure I could find you something. Although…"

"What?"

"Well, if you're interested, I found a chess set in the back of a cupboard. I don't know if you play..."

"Not since I was a kid, but I was decent at it. Shouldn't be too hard to pick up again. I won't be in your way?"

"Actually, I was looking forward to seeing you for more than just five minutes at a time."

"Aw, d'you miss me?"

"Yep." He cleared a few books off the desk.

Her face softened. "I miss you, too. Things are getting better downstairs with the others, but I can't talk to them the same way. Mind you…" she sat across from him, grinning. "It's possibly just as well that you're not down there, 'cause the kitchen hands say the daftest things and I know that if you so much as look at me it'd set me off. God knows how you manage to keep your poker face the way you do."

"It's a nightmare when the boys are around," Ianto said conspiratorially, setting up the board. "The other day I was out of copies of Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, and Thistlewaite was ranting at me. He actually said the words 'my father will hear about this!'"

Martha clapped her hands over her mouth, giggling. "Did he really?"

"Oh, yeah. Thought I was going to lose it."

"Isn't he blond?"

"He is! And you should hear them all, boasting away about their family trees…"

"Probably never have to lift a finger at home. Hey, I meant to ask, how did you learn to sew?" she asked.

Ianto smiled. "I learned from my father. He was a master tailor; could size a man's inside leg measurement by his stride across the shop's threshold."

"Inherited the family eye, then?" She grinned and looked up from the board.

"Comes in handy." Ianto opened with a pawn. "So. Where do you want to go, when we get out of here?"

* * *

><p><em>Nov 10, 1913<em>

"Jones?" John poked his head into the library, and began ambling about between the shelves. "Jones, have you got a copy of 'The Definitive Account of Mafeking?' I think I missed that one when I came by earlier –" he broke off, spotting them. "There you are! Goodness, what are you two up to?"

"Knitting socks, sir," Martha said evenly, "As you can see."

Ianto hid a crooked smile and captured one of her pawns before getting to his feet. "Your move. I'll go find Mr. Smith's book."

John leaned over her shoulder, eyeing the set-up of the game. "So is this what you get up to on your evenings off? I thought maybe you went down to the village with some of the other maids."

"Sometimes, but usually alone. The other maids don't always favour my company."

"Why ever not?" Martha said nothing, just pointed at her face. "Oh. Oh, dear, I'm very sorry about that."

"That's alright, sir. Oddly enough, I don't really favour their company either. Jenny and I get on well, though, we'll probably go to the tavern for a pint this evening. And if I win this game, Ianto's buying for us."

"Oh, well, that's nice. So, who taught you how to play?"

"My granddad, when I was a kid." She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial stage-whisper. "I'm experimenting a bit with strategy, see if I can't give him a run for -"

"Oh, no, no, you don't want to move your queen there, you'll lose her!"

Martha hid a wince and withdrew her piece. "Quite right, sir, don't know what I was thinking."

"Ah, well, it's a tricky sort of game," John said airily. "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it, in time."

Martha pointedly examined the board for a new move as Ianto handed off the book and an admonition about John's tumble down the stairs earlier that day. When John left, she moved her queen to its intended square, her face carefully nonchalant until she looked up and saw Ianto glowering at the door. "What's wrong?"

"Doesn't matter." He raised an eyebrow at her choice of move, and very deliberately captured her queen with his king.

Martha scowled at the board, before looking up with a brassy grin. "Are we getting a little too familiar with each other? Do we need to remember our place?"

"…No. Why, what happened?"

"Oh, Matron, earlier, said something to that effect. I found out he hit his head, forgot to knock, went a bit – well… med student." She nudged her own king a space.

Ianto smiled. "You worry about him."

"So do you." She cleared her throat. "You can't move there. That's check."

"Oh. So it is." Ianto nibbled his lower lip and relocated his king to an available spot. "I tried telling myself how nice it was to let other adults supervise him for a while."

She giggled and jumped a knight into his back ranks, taking his castle and covering the king's new space. The only available space, now that her bishop had a straight shot to the one he had just occupied. "And?"

"And then he went and hit his head and I realized he's still finding ways to give me gray hair from worry. Even when he's not trying to sacrifice himself to some alien monster every other week." Ianto stared at her. "Dear god, why are you smiling at me like that?"

* * *

><p>"Three pints, please," Ianto told the bartender, setting a few notes on the bar.<p>

"Took my advice after all, did you?" John said amiably, weaving between the wooden tables in the crowded, smoky dark pub.

"Hardly," Ianto scoffed. "She won, fair and square."

"'Course she did, good for her." John was still smiling, humouring him, and Ianto just shook his head.

"Excuse me, sir." He picked up the pewter mugs and departed, leaving a baffled and slightly affronted Mr. Smith in his wake.

Jenny's voice carried in the frosty air as he stepped outside the pub. "- very well, those Suffragettes, but that's London. That's miles away."

"But don't you want to scream sometimes?" Martha asked her earnestly. "Having to bow and scrape and behave, don't you just wanna tell them?"

"I dunno. Things must be different in your country." Jenny raised her eyebrows when Ianto approached. "Alright, then, what's that bee in your bonnet?"

He clanked the mugs down and took a dreg from his pint. "Bumped into Mr. Smith. He was under the impression that I did the noble thing and threw the match."

"What gave him that impression?" Martha asked, eyeing him over her tankard.

"Well, it seemed to both of us that the game was in my favour, and he seemed to think it would be the sporting thing to do." Martha frowned, and he went on. "He and I have very different ideas about what would be the sporting thing to do. I daresay overconfidence was my downfall – I wasn't expecting you to sacrifice your queen, that kind of ploy is _devilishly_ tricky to pull off."

"Is it? It seems pretty logical."

"Well, the average player is seldom tempted to give up their most powerful piece, though a trade or a short-term advantage can occur." Ianto waggled a finger. "Your set-up was very elegant. Don't think I'll make the mistake of underestimating you again."

Martha beamed and tipped her pint at him. She took a long swig, tilting her head back to look up at the sky. Green light flared, and she slammed her drink back down. "Did you see that?"

"See what?" Jenny asked.

"Did you see it, though?" She got to her feet, glancing at Ianto, who nodded.

"Barely – that flash of light just now?"

"Yeah, right up there, just for a second."

"There's nothing there!" Jenny insisted.

Ianto tore his eyes away from the sky. "I think it was a shooting star," he suggested, smiling at Jenny. "The Leonids meteor shower is at its peak in mid-November. Keep an eye out, perhaps we'll see more of them."

Martha was still standing, still staring when Matron Redfern came dashing up the lane, breathless and startled.

"Matron, are you alright?"

Staring, searching the skies in the same direction that Martha had been watching, Matron called, "Did you see that? Something in the woods – this light!"

"Anything wrong, ladies? Jones?" John asked, stepping outside and joining them. "Far too cold to be standing around in the dark, don't you—"

"There!" Joan pointed as a flash of green streaked through the night. "There, look in the sky!"

"That's beautiful!" Jenny exclaimed.

"There...all gone," John murmured. "Commonly known as a meteorite," he added out loud for his audience. "It's just rocks falling to the ground, that's all."

Jenny nodded fervently. Ianto and Martha traded a significant look above her head.

"It came down in the woods," said Joan.

"No, no no, they always look close, when actually they're miles off. Nothing left but a cinder," John said dreamily. He departed from his reverie more gently than usual, turning his gaze to her. "Now, I should escort you back to the school. Ladies?" he added over his shoulder. "Jones, are you staying on?"

"We're fine, thanks," Martha said firmly, still staring at the sky.

"Then I shall bid you goodnight."

As soon as they were gone, Martha spoke again.

"Jenny, where was that? On the horizon, where the light was headed."

"That's by Cooper's Field."

Martha glanced at Ianto. "Coming?"

"Yep. Ah, Jenny, will you be alright here? Or would you prefer to catch up with Mr. Smith and Matron?"

"I'm sorry?" Martha was already heading down the lane. "Oh, come on, now, you can't just go running off after fallen stars at this time of night!"

"We'll be fine, just make sure you get back safely."

"Never mind me!" Jenny protested, even as Ianto turned to follow Martha. "It's dark, you'll break a leg!"

With a resigned huff, she got to her feet and ran after them.

"God help me, I've actually missed this," Ianto said breathlessly, cheeks pink with cold as they slowed from their flight and picked their way through to the edge of the woods.

Martha shot him a smile, but it faded quickly. "Yeah, but – what if it's them? What if they've found us?"

"Then - we run like hell?"

"Fair enough," she murmured as Jenny caught up with them, and they stared out across the dark expanse of grass.

"There y'are...Nothing there. I told you so."

"And that's Cooper's Field?"

"As far as the eye can see, and no fallen star. Now come on, I'm frozen to the bone, let's go," Jenny grumbled. "As your Mr Smith says, 'Nothing to see'."

Ianto and Martha stared at each other, and with a naggling sense of disappointment (and a twinge of guilt for the fact that they were disappointed), turned away and followed her back to school.

* * *

><p><em>November 11th, 1913<em>

"Hello," Martha murmured to the dusty, dormant TARDIS. She shook her head. "See what the boys have done? They've got me talking to you, too." She sighed, gazed up at the time rotor. "I've missed you."

It was odd, seeing the TARDIS so silent and empty. It had been an adjustment, at first, to a – well, a living machine. And just when she'd became accustomed to the steady pulse of life, a benign breath and thrum in the background – now there was nothing.

_"This working? Okay, kids. Before I change here's a list of instructions for when I'm human. One, don't let me hurt anyone. We can't have that, but you know what humans are like."_

* * *

><p>The din of eleven or so jeering boys masked the sound of the classroom door as it was flung open. Said din failed to mask the command that followed.<p>

"_Enough!"_ Ianto barked, reveling in the startled flinches as all eyes turned to him. He held out one hand, palm up. "The cane. Hand it over."

Hutchinson recovered first, drawing himself up to height and holding the cane horizontally in front of him, gripping it with one hand and slapping it into the other. "And why should I do that? We've Mr. Smith's permission."

"I'm sure you do." Ianto's jaw twitched, even as his expression remained neutral. "And now you're done here."

"Perhaps this is something you ought to discuss with Mr. Smith and the Headmaster." At five-foot nine, Hutchinson often had the other boys quick to back down, and Ianto fought a smirk as that tactic visibly failed on his own six feet.

"Perhaps the cache of beer hidden under the panels of the pavilion is something I ought to discuss with them as well?"

Hutchinson's face paled to an interesting milky colour. Ianto waggled his fingers and accepted the cane, standing by as the boys filed out one by one. Timothy was the last one left in the room. His face was red and crumpled, shoulders hunched in as he straightened his clothes.

Ianto hesitated by the door. "I can go, if you need a moment."

Tim shook his head. "No, sir, I'm fine. Thank you."

"You don't have to call me sir."

Tim stared at him curiously. The same words echoed faintly in a peevish London voice, that of a floppy-haired young teacher to a sullen, sodden, button-nosed boy in a strange school hallway, which flickered on the edges of the present one as if out of the corner of one's eye and -

"It wouldn't be proper if I didn't."

"And here I thought it was because none of you ever remembered my name," Ianto said airily as they quit the room and headed down the corridor, and Tim could still hear the echo of the teacher's voice behind Ianto's, and '_sometimes even I don't remember my name!'_ "Anyway, it's hardly proper of me, interfering with a teacher's discipline," Ianto said in lieu of the absurd notion of forgetting one's own name.

"Why did you?" Tim asked.

Ianto shrugged. "Because I could."

* * *

><p>Martha turned up the volume and fast-forwarded through a few seconds.<p>

_"Four- you. Don't let me abandon you. And five, very important, five! Don't let me eat pears! I _hate_ pears!"_

She grinned to herself. The Pratchett orchards continued to thrive, and she'd been graciously providing John with a new fruit bowl each week at least.

"_S__ix, don't fake an accent or speech patterns, you know this by now._

_Seven, it's just occurred to me that the only reason I tell you things like that anymore is because I'm still getting used to the idea that you actually listen, so you'll have to bear with me. But it's nice. Keep it up."_

She fast-forwarded a little more, until -

_"Thirteen. Martha, don't let Ianto try his hand at world domination while I'm out of commission._

_Fourteen. Ianto, if you try to take over the world, I will not take you to Baroque Venice to meet Vivaldi when I wake up. You'll just have to settle for the Housemartins._

__Fifteen, the creatures that are following us are lifeforms that have evolved beyond physical bodies into – well, gaseous consciousness, if you like. They hunt by smell despite apparent lack of conventional olfactory receptors, don't ask me how it works, and they're like mayflies, they have incredibly short lifespans, lasting about three months. Some go rogue and possess physical bodies to extend their lives, and this particular family have gotten particularly ambitious by singling me out. By consuming the lifespan of a Time Lord, they could live for - well - pretty much forever._"_

"But there was a meteor, a shooting star- what am I supposed to do then?"

_"And twenty three. If anything goes wrong, if they find us, then you know what to do. Open the watch. Everything I am is kept safe in there. Now, I've put a perception filter on it so the human me won't think anything of it, to him it's just a watch. But don't open it unless you have to. Because once it's open, then the Family will be able to find me. It's all down to you. Your choice. Oh, and- thank you."_

Martha sighed at the screen. "I've missed you, too. I wish you'd come back."

* * *

><p>Having failed to absorb the content of the last three pages of<em> Catulli Veronensis Liber, <em>Tim looked up from his seat on the little footstool in the corner of the library. Ianto stood upon a stool of his own, peacefully shelving books.

"Were you bullied at school?" Tim asked eventually.

Ianto paused, considered. "Sometimes. I did my best to keep my head down, though."

Tim nodded. "I try to. Mr. Smith told me no man should hide himself, but..."

For some reason, Ianto chuckled. "Did he say that?"

"Earlier today. Why, is that funny?"

Ianto sobered. "Well, I suppose not. I think... Mr. Smith's advice shows that he's had time to forget his own school years."

"I wouldn't think them an easy thing to forget," Tim said slowly.

Ianto shrugged. "People like to convince themselves that their pasts are far rosier than they truly were. In fact, people will convince themselves of anything to avoid facing the reality of their experiences." He glanced at the tome in his hand, and held it up. "And then, they write history books."

"Sorry? I don't follow."

Ianto waggled the book vaguely. "Your drill practice. What Headmaster Rocastle said to you?" He gave it a grimace before shelving it. "Any man who says that war is glorious has either never had to fight one, or fought and now has to convince himself that it was worth it. If his side won, he'll write a history book to tell the next generation that the sacrifices of his side were for a higher cause, and that the other side deserved to suffer defeat."

"So... you think the headmaster's wrong, then?" Tim gazed at him curiously. "About fighting in the dark continent?"

Ianto smiled bitterly. "Tim, I'm _Welsh. _I can't exactly look favourably on the English fighting anywhere. Boys like you either die in droves or bully the rest of the world into submission. And never mind that it's not a fair fight because you have guns and they have spears - have you lot even asked yourself what you're doing there in the first place?"

Tim hesitated. "The Headmaster says we're bringing civilization to the rest of the world."

"Of course he does. For some men, the promise of power isn't enough to get them to kill. They have to justify the bloodshed somehow. Insisting they know what's best for everybody else is a surprisingly common excuse."

Tim contemplated this. "I don't think I've ever heard it put that way. It sounds a bit..."

"What, harsh? Your lot might be able to convince yourselves that it's worth it, but believe me, nobody else can." Ianto sighed heavily. "I've witnessed firsthand what people do in the name of the British Empire. It was… they _destroyed_ so much -"

Tim flinched under a barrage of _fire blood metal pain terror exterminate exterminate delete delete delete –_

"Those words make people believe they're doing something glorious, something right and noble," Ianto went on, staring at something very far away, "so no one questions them when they're hurting others. Even when it hurts their own people."

_Bodies on the floor bodies strapped in metal screaming smoke and sweat and_ Ianto's eyes landed on Tim, hands white-knuckled around the book and the furrow between his eyes and the stiffness in his jaw and _stop stop make it stop._ He paused, swore inwardly for not keeping a better rein on his shields, then focused his efforts, and pushed the memories down beneath his psychic barriers. He watched carefully, projecting calm and speaking in a low, even voice as Tim appeared to relax, confused but no longer panicked.

"And people stand by. Whether they believe in the same vision... or they're too afraid of reprisals to intervene, or are simply plugging along, living their lives, and they don't understand why they should. Bullies love people like that. They make the job so much easier."

"So which is it, then? Keep your head down and let them get away with it? Or speak up and get beaten for your trouble?"

Ianto grimaced. "That'll be your decision to make. Although," he added, "I find there's something to be said for finding subtler ways to make your point."

"So you're saying I should blackmail the Headmaster?" Tim said, so straight-faced that for a moment Ianto was afraid that he was serious.

Ianto gave up trying to look disapproving. "Well, I won't tell you that you _shouldn't_ blackmail the Headmaster..."_  
><em>

"And why, pray, are we blackmailing the Headmaster?"

Tim started in his seat. Ianto's own guilty jump made him stumble off the stool, which flipped over with a _thunk._

"Martha!" He righted it hastily while she stared at them from the doorway. Then he stood up straight, nearly ran a hand through his hair, decided against it, and settled on pushing back his jacket to place his hands on his hips. "We're, um, plotting to bring down the British Empire. Want to help?"

"I leave you alone for five minutes..." Martha sighed and shook her head. "Can I have a word when you boys are finished plotting?"

"Of course. Everything okay?"

She made a face. "There's... a bit of a complication."

Tim stood up. "Actually, it's nearly time for supper, I should be going." He glanced at Ianto and added "Thank you."

Ianto nodded. "Any time."

With a polite smile to Martha, Tim departed, steps measured and quiet like a solemn ghost. Martha entered the library and paced among the shelves, a more restless and agitated spirit.

"It's Smith and Matron," she blurted out as soon as they were out of earshot. "I walked in on them. _Kissing._"

Ianto winced. "Oh, _hell_."

"Wh – did you know? Did you know they were falling in love?"

"No, no, I certainly didn't think it was quite to that point at least. I knew they were friendly, and I've seen her drop a few hints now and again, but it appeared that he was too dim to notice. So I'd hoped, anyway."

Martha gave a frustrated growl and dropped onto Tim's vacated footstool. "This is all we need. He didn't even think about women! What are we supposed to do now?"

Ianto sat too, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands pensively. "Well, we have options. We could leave well enough alone, and hope for the best. I could have a word with John, or with Matron, or even the Headmaster, if necessary. If I thought we'd be here for another month yet, and they had time to get attached, and the Family's lifespan ran out while they were out there somewhere, then I'd be far more concerned. But we've had that 'meteor shower', and Tim's acting funny, and… I can't help but think this will be over soon."

"You may be right." Martha sighed. "Poor Mr. Smith. He never had a say in this, did he? He had to go and fall in love with a human. He had to go and _be_ so bloody human. And why wouldn't he? It's awful, really. It was easy enough to think about bringing the Doctor back, but... we're going to have to do it, aren't we? We're going to have to kill John Smith."

* * *

><p><em>"Sixteen, about that possessing physical bodies thing - keep a sharp eye out for anyone who starts acting strangely."<em>

"There you are! Come and look what I've got. Mr Poole didn't want his afternoon tea so cook said I could have it. And there's enough for two. What are you standing there for? Are you alright?"

"I must have a cold coming on."

"Problem is, I keep thinking about them but I don't know what to do."

"Thinking about who?"

"Mr Smith and Matron. Cause it's never gonna last, he's gonna leave in a few weeks."

"Why?"

"It's like his contract comes to an end. And she's gonna be heartbroken."

"Leave for where?"

"All sorts of places. I wish I could tell you Jenny, but it's complicated."

"In what way?"

"I just can't."

"It sounds so interesting. Tell me. Tell me now."

"Would you like some tea?"

"Yes thanks."

"I could put a nice bit of gravy in the pot. And some mutton. Or sardines and jam, how about that?"

"I like the sound of that."

"Right...hold on a tick."

* * *

><p>"Okay, for real this time," Martha announced, not having bothered to knock this time as she burst unceremoniously into the library, thankfully empty save for Ianto at his desk. "They've found us."<p>

Ianto stowed his diary in his pocket and was on his feet in an instant, moving around to the front of the desk.

"Are you alright? What happened?"

"Fine. I'm fine." Twitching with adrenaline, she wrapped her fingers around the back of a chair and gripped it hard. "They got Jenny. Possessed her, or copied her or something. She came back to our room, she was acting funny, I figured something was up and got out in time." Her voice cracked, her throat strained and taught.

Ianto watched her carefully. "And..."

"And then she tried to shoot me from the window," Martha finished, waving him away when he took a step closer. "I'm fine, honest. Ianto, we've got to open the watch."

"Looks like it. Let's go." He straightened his tie, touched the lining where he'd stitched the chain of his TARDIS key, and followed her to the door. "Wouldn't hurt to work on a plan, too. If the Family can track by smell, we won't have much time between now and once we've got him back."

"Right. If Matron's still with him, we'll need to get her away to somewhere safe."

"Yes - probably we should head for the TARDIS straight off, try to draw them away from the school."

"Oh, god, if they've got Jenny, then they could have others."

"Good point, we'll need to keep an eye out. How was Jenny acting?"

"Right, um, when she walked in the room she just sort of stood there, like she didn't know why she came in. And her voice was sort of vague, but her eyes were really intense. Like she's looking right through you and can see right into your soul but just stares at the wall behind you. Oh, and she was sniffing - said she had a cold, I'm guessing that's the track-by-smell thing, and she was asking me questions about things I'd already talked about. Sorry, I don't know if any of that was helpful, it was only about a minute or two -"

"Not bad, actually. Okay, back when they were first chasing us, you asked about containment fields, now, he said a temporal containment would just give them energy and a physical trap wouldn't do any good with their ship and gadgets. But if they're possessing humans, then physical containment might not be out of the question."

When they reached Smith's door, Ianto knocked sharply but didn't wait for a reply. Smith and Joan sprang apart, flustered but exasperated as he and Martha entered the study.

"Mr. Smith, we need to have a word."

Smith raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. "Go on, then."

"I'm afraid our time is up. We need to open the watch."

"I'm sorry?"

"The fob watch. You wrote about it in your journal, you had a dream about it, remember?"

"The one where we were hiding from the creatures, the ones like green smoke?" Martha urged. "They're here, they're coming for you."

"Martha, that was a _dream_."

"_John. _Mr. Smith," Ianto gritted out. "It was real. The Doctor is real. He locked his mind inside the fob watch and became human. He became you, and we need him back."

"Oh, god, Ianto?" Martha said from the fireplace. "It's gone! The watch is gone, it was here, I know it was here when I dusted this morning."

Smith raised his eyebrows in dawning comprehension. "It's quite alright, I understand perfectly. Really, Jones, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. Martha, I'm sorry, this must be so confusing for you. Jones has been helping me put together the journal of those dreams I've been having, and evidently thought it would be funny if he could convince me they were real."

Martha pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh, for the love of -"

"And if that's not enough, he's roped you into it as well. Of course, I don't blame you at all - _cultural differences,_" he added aside to Joan. "It's perfectly rotten of him to take advantage of -"

"Five minutes ago, my friend Jenny tried to shoot me!" Martha snapped. "This isn't a joke, or a story, or a dream." She glanced back to the mantle, scanning the sides and floor in the hopes that it had merely fallen off. "Oh, god, we've lost the watch, you're going to bloody kill us when you wake up."

"On the upside, he won't be able to if we can't find it," Ianto said distractedly, rifling through John's papers.

Martha paused and shot him an incredulous look. "That's not an upside."

"Nope, not really." He started to rummage through the top desk drawer, and John put his foot down.

"Jones, this is appalling behaviour, I'm going to have to insist that you leave my study immediately."

Ianto ignored him. "Matron, have you seen any sign of a fob watch while you've been in here? Pewter, with circles on the cover?"

"There was a watch, yes," Joan said coolly. "I saw it on the mantle yesterday, when he showed me the journal. And I rather think you've taken this a bit too far."

"Has anyone else been in here today?" Martha asked heedlessly.

"Now, I - really! Just Latimer, Timothy Latimer, I gave him that copy of Mafeking."

Wide-eyed, Ianto spun around and ran a hand up through his hair.

Martha stared at him. "You said Tim was acting funny."

"He was. I thought he was just distracted, seeing as how _someone_ gave the other boys permission to cane him."

Martha rounded on Smith. "Doctor! You didn't!" She paused, made a face at her slip and retrieved her indignant expression.

"That's quite enough out of both of you!" Smith sputtered. "I've half a mind to report you both to the Headmaster, I hope you realize that this could be grounds for dismissal -"

Martha cut him off. "People will die if we don't get the Doctor back in time." She turned to Ianto. "Have we got _any_ way of jogging his memory without the watch?"

"Not that I can think of," Ianto answered grimly, still speaking as if Smith wasn't even in the room. "Honestly, I don't think we've got a way of convincing him short of hauling him out to the barn and showing him the TARDIS, and we just don't have time."

Smith looked alarmed, but couldn't get a word in edgewise.

"Jenny's probably going to follow us straight here."

"Then we'll have to hope she stays on our trail and doesn't follow him. Tim's our only lead right now, we need to track him down." Martha nodded, heading for the door. "Mr. Smith, if you see him, _get the watch back,_"Ianto added.

Smith glared at him, but Martha risked a final warning anyway. "And if you see Jenny, don't tell her _anything. _C'mon, Ianto."

* * *

><p><em>Stop. Stay. Keep yourself hidden.<em>

Tim pressed himself against the stone wall off the side of the courtyard. Martha ran past him, out the gates and down the lane, heading towards the fields on the west side of the school.

A few minutes later, Mr. Smith and Matron departed from the school grounds, arm in arm as they left for the village, and he followed them.

"Any luck?" Martha asked, breathless as she came dashing up the lane to meet Ianto at the gates.

"Good news and bad news. Bad news is, no sign of Tim, or the watch. I tried Carruthers' little magpie stash - he's got notoriously sticky fingers - nothing. Nothing from talking to the other boys, save for some frankly appalling insinuations. And I checked the study again when Smith and Matron left, just to see if we missed it." Martha nodded, letting him talk while she caught her breath. "They got Jeremy Baines, he was with Jenny - they got into Smith's room just after I left. Mr. Clarke from the village was hanging around the library, I think they've got him, good news is that they don't appear to have found Tim either, so I don't think he's one of them. Also, your plan is working nicely: they've been going in circles all over the school, everywhere that we've been in the past half hour. "

"Okay, good work. So when you said Tim was acting funny -"

"I'm honestly not sure. That funny stare you talked about, he does that, but as far as I know he's done that ever since we showed up. But there was a moment earlier - I think he picked up on some things I was thinking about, he could have some kind of psychic or empathic ability; a bit like the way Will could see through psychic paper."

"Could explain if he's a step ahead. Okay, so we can't find Tim or the watch, what now?"

"We could head to Cooper's Field, find their ship - maybe we can shut it down with the screwdriver. Did you find it?"

"Yep. It's not a bad thought, but we've put them on the Doctor's trail. If they go for Smith, they'll be headed to the village next. Even if we can't bring him back - _yet_ - we need to keep them away from him. And if we can't do that, we'll have to convince him he's in danger and get him away from everyone else."

* * *

><p>"Ooh, staff entrance, I think, Miss!" the old man at the door admonished.<p>

"Yeah, well, think again, mate." Martha was about to storm past into the dance hall, but Ianto paused and considered the old veteran for a moment.

"We might need a back door," he suggested. "Want me to go scope it out?"

She nodded and disappeared inside the dance hall. The old man looked thunderstruck, glancing at Ianto uncertainly, who shrugged and approached.

"Some of the boys at the school got into some beer and they've run quite amok. I believe they intend to, ah, crash the gate, and we've come to warn the guests. It might be best if you stayed clear of the building until we get them back in line."

"Disgraceful," the old man barked. "In my day, we had proper discipline -"

"Yes, of course. Don't know what this country's coming to," Ianto agreed hastily. "If you'll pardon me, I need to pop 'round the back to let the staff know. If you see them coming, don't engage with them. Come straight inside and let someone know, would you do that?"

The old man muttered about how the Headmaster 'should give them all a proper whipping', which Ianto took for a grudging assent, hurrying off around the side of the building.

* * *

><p>"Please, don't. Not again," Matron entreated when Martha slipped through the crowd of couples and sat at her table.<p>

"He's different from any other man you've ever met, right?"

Matron sighed in resignation. "Yes."

"And sometimes he says these strange things," Martha pressed, "like people and places you've never heard of, yeah? You said yourself, it's like he's left the kettle on. Like he's forgotten something. And you were right. Those creatures, they're called the Family of Blood, and they're hunting us."

"Oh, now really, Martha," Smith said in a pained voice as he approached with drinks. "This is getting out of hand. I must insist that you leave."

"Do you know what this is?" She pulled the sonic screwdriver from her pocket. "Name it. Go on."

John stared at it balefully, at Martha as though almost betrayed.

"John, what is that silly thing? John?"

"It's real." He wouldn't take it, even as Martha held it out. "It's all real, and you're in danger, and as long as you're here so is Matron and everybody else."

"Big time." Ianto practically materialized behind John's shoulder, pale and grim. "They've got an army."

Martha's eyes widened. "What?"

"Scarecrows. Lots of them. Moving ones. They've got the building surrounded. I locked the staff entrance but that won't do much good if they're guarding it anyway."

"_Scarecrows,_ Jones, what fresh nonsense is this?"

Ianto gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. And at the other end of the room there came the stamp of boots and the crash of an overturned coat rack.

"There! Will! Be! SILENCE! ALL OF YOU!" bellowed the intruder, a man with impressive whiskers and impressive bulk, who was followed by Baines and Jenny. Startled, the guests obeyed, but for a few gasps as a handful of scarecrows filed in behind them with ungainly slump."I! Said! SILENCE!"

"Mr. Clarke, what's going on?" the announcer protested.

There was a moment of pause, and Clarke wheeled around, pulled a great bug-like armored gun, and shot him with a bolt of green light, until particles of fine dust fluttered to the floor.

The room erupted into screams.

Ianto flinched. "I hate to say I told you so -"

"Mr. Smith, don't say anything," Martha said firmly.

"We asked for SILENCE!" Baines roared, and the guests, skittering about the room in a panic, were cowed immediately. "Now, then. We have a few questions for Mr. Smith."

Martha squeezed Ianto's hand - they didn't remember having reached out for each other - and then let go. She pulled the sonic screwdriver from her pocket and turned to face the Family of Blood.

"He cannot answer any of your questions!" Martha's voice rang out as she took a step forward. "But I can." She smiled. "Hello. I'm the Doctor."


End file.
